


Weak Blood

by lokidiabolus



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: All you need is love mate, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Light Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, caretaker!Thomas, patient!Newt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 71,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4877851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokidiabolus/pseuds/lokidiabolus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas was always bad at saying no to people, and even worse at turning his back on them. So when he meets a guy spitting his lungs out in a hallway of his girlfriend's house, his nature strikes again and instead of easing his frantic work pace off, he decides to do the opposite - take on another challenge and take care of a cranky, sick and pissy Newt. The consequences are a bit more intense than he anticipated...</p><p>Amazing trailer for this by rsprodz: http://rsprodz.tumblr.com/post/146416888076/thomasnewt-weak-blood-fanfic-trailer-written <3<br/>Out of vimeo: http://rsprodz.tumblr.com/post/146524938915/thomasnewt-weak-blood-fanfic-trailer-written ^^</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sickly

Thomas was running late. He was so damn late that if there was a possibility to push back time, he would do it as fast as he could, for at least an hour. He could feel his heart rabbiting in his ribcage, breath ragged and sweat breaking on his forehead, but it wasn’t enough, he was just not making it. Not when he had to stop by at his girlfriend’s flat to take the promised clothes and then run back to the city and the shopping mall for the meeting. He already texted them he was going to be late, but the _late_ changed more into _a year later_ with this pace.

He fell through the main door into the house and ran up the stairs, almost spitting out his lungs at top of it when he was unlocking the door to Teresa’s flat. The clothes were ready on the table as she promised, folded neatly, and he thanked the heaven above for it, since he couldn’t afford anymore delay than he already had. He didn’t even took down his shoes when he rushed through the place, just grabbed the stuff and ran back out, and he was pretty sure Teresa was going to kick his butt for it.

On his way back he almost knocked down a blond boy standing in front of the door in the second floor, coughing terribly, but managed to avoid him in the end by an inch, muttering an apology and continuing for a moment, until his legs slowed down under the sound of the devious coughing he heard from the guy.

“Are you alright?” he stopped completely, looking up from the lower floor. “That sounds really bad.”

“It’s f-fine,” the blond barked at him, wheezing a little. “I’m f-fine.”

“You sure?” Thomas returned few steps up, watching him with a worried expression. Such coughing sounded like from a very ill person, he heard it a lot in the hospital. It usually came from the infection control department, and this guy definitely didn’t look healthy. He was rather pale and his blond hair on the back of his neck was pasted together by sweat. He seemed to be shivering as well, like he was running high fever, and Thomas wondered what he was doing out in the first place. He seemed like a serious case for a hospital stay.

“Sure!” the blond growled and apparently got back to the fighting with the lock to the flat, like he didn’t have enough strength to open the door. It seemed so pitiful Thomas just couldn’t leave, no matter how late he was.

He hopped back up and put the bag with clothes next to the wall before he approached the apparently ill person with caution. It looked like the guy barely registered him in his quest to get inside of his home, how he was rattling with the unresponsive handle and trying all kinds of positions of the key. Or maybe he was a burglar and just tried to get Thomas off his track?

_Well, he doesn’t look like can lift a paper in his state, not to mention valuables._

“Lemme open that for you?” Thomas offered calmly, extending his hand for the keys, and the blond stared at him with wide, brown eyes like had saw him for the first time in his life. They seem kind of hazed and definitely very tired, and Thomas seriously considered calling an ambulance, rather than his home. He was so thin and sick looking it was a wonder he was still standing, his skin was basically transparent – or it would be if you took him out under the sun. He was slightly shaking and breathing rather heavily, and Thomas found himself to his own dismay that he was unable to tell if the blond was about to pass out or just had a very bad progress of a common cold.

“What…?” A focus returned into the brown eyes in a second.

“The door,” Thomas elaborated and pointed at the locked obstacle. “Seems you have troubles with it?”

“I can open my door just fine,” the guy replied with a frown, and his coughing finally ceased, even though his voice remained rather scratchy. That and also sort of… British?

“Yeah, seems like you do,” Thomas uttered, watching him fight with the handle that wouldn’t budge. “Flawless work.”

“Shut it,” the blond growled and his movement became erratic, like he was running out of patience and Thomas’ presence was making him super nervous. “I can handle this, so can you p-please just leave me b-be?”

The coughing was back and it stopped him from any other attempt to open the door, so Thomas snatched the keys like he was taking a lollipop from a baby and with one quick move opened the impenetrable fortress.

“There you go,” he gestured towards the opening with an encouraging smile and handed him back the keys. “You’re welcome. Go get some rest?”

“Jerk,” came a rude reply and before Thomas could even respond, the blond disappeared in his hideout and shut the door behind him like a safe, leaving Thomas standing there alone.

“Huh,” Thomas let out lamely. “What a charming guy.”

One look at his watch told him that if this one was charming, then he was pretty much dead. He never came this late to a scheduled meeting in his life.

***

“Are you for real, Thomas?”

“I’m sorry,” the brunet apologized when he finally crashed into the seat next to a brown haired boy, and put the clothes on the table. “Lots of stuff happened and I had to stay longer at work.”

“One and half hour late!” Aris whined and Thomas had to admit if he was on his place, he would leave already. He could see the remains of eaten food and empty glasses, and let out a sigh. “Harriet and Rachel already left, just so you know what a precious friend you have in me.”

“I told you I’m sorry, man,” he mumbled. “There was a car accident and we had one heavily injured and two who needed immediate help and I had to stay.”

“That job is gonna destroy your personal life soon,” the younger boy pointed out. “What does Tesa say about it? Isn’t she pissed already?”

“Pissed?” Thomas furrowed his brows. “Why would she be? I’m working. That’s more than I can tell about you.”

“Mean,” Aris snorted and leaned back in his chair. “I’m just concerned, that’s all. You’re usually late, you rarely have time, taking shifts you don’t need to, if I were her, I’d mind you’re not home all the time.”

Everyone knew working in a hospital was a devil’s work – and Thomas wasn’t even a doctor. Being short on staff made a number on their shifts though, and as much as Thomas considered his free time precious, he just couldn’t say no when injured or sick people were piling up and nurses were dropping like flies due to exhaustion. But it was still money – and the more he worked, the more he got, so it was a plus. Maybe also the only one, since the rest usually kind of sucked – and Aris was right about the zero free time and punctuality. But today was the last day of those desperate measures, since there should have been a lot new employees by tomorrow, and Thomas was looking for it _a lot_.

“Is this a revenge for me being late?” he stared at Aris unhappily. “Cuz seriously, cut it out. I’m tired and I was really trying to get here. Stop being nasty. Teresa is fine, I’m fine, I’m making money and she understands.”

“Mkay,” Aris shrugged, but there was something about him Thomas didn’t like. “You wanna eat?”

“Has she said anything?” he watched his friend in suspicion. “To you?”

“No,” Aris shrugged. “I was just thinking out loud.”

Thomas was pretty sure Aris wasn’t being completely honest, but getting it out of him was basically impossible – at least when the boy was sober. And if Thomas hadn’t been so tired and didn’t need to be ready to get up early tomorrow, he would get him wasted to learn about it without a second thought.

“Well, don’t think anymore then,” he told him sweetly. “If you don’t want me to leave again.”

“Fine, grumpy cat,” Aris rolled his eyes and stopped the waitress to let Thomas order his food.

At least he shut up though.

***

It was almost eight in the evening when he was returning to Teresa’s flat, feeling sated with all he food he ate, but nervous. Aris wasn’t a mean person, and it felt like he was worried, but the cryptic messages _what if_ were weird and made Thomas rather unhappy. Him and Teresa were together for several years by now, and yes, Thomas admitted their relationship wasn’t that good anymore. Or, it wasn’t bad, they weren’t quarrelling or anything, but it just toned down a bit, with the stereotype and routine. They were more like very good friends with occasional perks, and Thomas found himself okay with it – but if Teresa hadn’t been, it wasn’t good.

“Maybe I should talk to her about it…” he mumbled to himself while unlocking the main door to the house and entering. Aris wouldn’t be so vague if there hadn’t been something going on, and since him and Teresa were besties, he had to know at least a little. Or maybe it was only a hunch?

He slowly walked up the stairs, his thoughts mingling, until he reached the second floor with the door he helped to open two hours ago, where he stopped in wonder. And what about this guy? Was he truly alright? He sounded sick and seemed weak – it was making his inner caretaker shiver in fear of what could happen to him if he was there all alone.

It took only about three seconds before he knocked at the door and waited patiently behind them, hoping somebody was there to open them and tell him that guy didn’t pass out on the floor or something.

At first there was nothing, then he heard footsteps until the door finally opened and a blond girl in a tank top and shorts stood in between them.

“Yes?” she watched him with a wary expression and Thomas blinked and took few steps back to check if he was at the right floor, the right door.

“Uh, sorry,” he cleared his throat and quickly counted the levels. No, he was pretty sure it was the second one, and these doors. “I’m searching for a blond guy, he should be living here? Kind of ill?”

“Oh!” her eyes lit up suddenly, like he told her a secret code or something. “That was fast! I was expecting you tomorrow the earliest, come on in!”

Thomas didn’t even know what to tell her, so he followed her inside the place, and got immediately hit with a super hot temperature, almost like in a tropical island. It was a little stuffy, like somebody forgot to turn off the heating and it stilled him like chains.

“Sorry for the temperature,” she immediately noticed his wide eyes when they stopped in the hallway. “He should be in warmth, so we tuned it up a bit. Imagine you’re in The Caribbean.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her, earning a soft smile. “I like when it’s warm as well, so no biggie.”

“You’re pretty nice,” she told him simply. “Too bad Newt is such an arse lately.”

_Newt?_

“Oh yeah,” he sighed and she moved again, probably not even hearing him. The flat was a little bigger than Teresa’s, probably thanks to the fact it wasn’t an attic one, and smelled like chicken broth and something sweet.

“I’m Sonya by the way,” she glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled again. She was sort of petite and really adorable, with sparkling green eyes and pink lips, and for some reason she kind of reminded him of that blond boy. A sister, maybe? They looked a lot alike.

“Thomas,” he introduced himself and she stopped at the entrance, giving him a look.

“Okay, one thing before we go,” she nodded towards the living room. “He’s a little pissy, usually really tired and tries to play it tough. It’s better to use some tough love, otherwise it’s really difficult to deal with him. Please, don’t take anything he says seriously, he’s just kicking around himself and some meds are not too gentle, so he often feels sick after taking them.”

“Does the doctor know about it?” he asked seriously. “Maybe he should get a different prescription?”

“We tried it, but the meds are alright. He’s not allergic or anything, they do help him, just… have those annoying side effects,” she shook her head and her tone was a little apologetic. “Thankfully he doesn’t need to take those as often, so it’s just a warning.”

“Noted,” he nodded, now even more curious, and she finally moved again into the brightly lit room. Thomas spotted the blond guy right away, sitting in a big arm chair with blanket draped around his shoulders and watching TV with an unhappy scowl. He still looked pale and a little sickly, but didn’t cough anymore and Thomas considered a good sign.

“Hey again,” he spoke up before Sonya could open her mouth, and the blond turned to him with surprise. “Glad to see you not passed out on the floor or something. Or locked out of the Scorch again.”

“What are you doing here?” _Newt_ stared at him incredulously and then at Sonya. “You let him in?”

“He’s my replacement,” she shrugged. “And he seems pretty nice.”

“You mean pretty annoying,” the blond snorted, filling up the _pissy_ label. “I don’t need anyone replacing you, I can take care of myself.”

“We already talked about this, you stubborn arse,” she uttered and Thomas felt a pat on his shoulder. “Good luck, Thomas. Don’t take him seriously, he’s all bark, but no bite.”

“Maybe I’m all bite and have rabies,” Newt grumbled and buried himself deeper into the armchair. “Just go already. You’re getting on my nerves.”

“I give you one day until you call and beg me to stop by,” she said sweetly, her pretty eyes twinkling mischievously, and he flipped her off and stopped paying attention.

“Scam, you hag,” only came as a mumble and Sonya grinned and winked at Thomas.

“Best of luck to you,” she wished him, grabbed her bag from the counter and the last thing Thomas knew he was standing alone with Newt in the living room and the main door shut closed how Sonya left.

“You’re not really a caretaker, are you?” Newt suddenly asked without even looking and Thomas crossed his arms on his chest and tilted his head. He was sharp, he had to admit.

“Technically, I am,” he shrugged. “It’s my job. But I haven’t been sent here, yeah.”

“So what are you doing here?” another question.

“Well, you seemed rather sick. Wanted to check up on you,” Thomas took few steps closer. “Sonya opened the door and here I am. If you need a caretaker, I can totally do that for you.”

“I don’t,” Newt finally looked at him, annoyance dripping from his voice. “And as you can see, I can take care of myself, I’m not dying, and you’re bothering me.”

“Am I,” Thomas smirked and approached the armchair next to the blond, where he sat down. “I think you like the company, but you’re too proud to admit it.”

“I thought you’re a caretaker, not a psychologist,” Newt commented dryly.

“I can be whoever you need,” the brunet offered. “Of course, I can let somebody else to come here instead of Sonya, but hey, you already know me a little, maybe it’s better with me?”

“You sound like from a cheap porn.”

“I’m only a high quality porn,” Thomas opposed. “The one you can’t stop watching.”

“Ugh.”

“I’m Thomas by the way,” he extended his hand towards the blond, not really expecting him to take it. “Is Newt a nickname or a given name?”

“I’m Newton.” As expected no contact came, but the name was a progress at least. “Newt for short.”

“Cool,” Thomas let his hand drop with a smile. “So what do you say, Newt?”

“That you’re insane and probably weird for barging into other people’s homes like that, pretending to be somebody you’re not,” Newt averted his eyes again, but it made Thomas laugh anyway.

“I take it that we have a deal,” he pointed out with a smirk and since Newt only scoffed, he considered it confirmed.


	2. Immunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, he’s not really sunshine and bunnies,” Thomas chuckled, remembering the pissy attitude Newt maintained the whole visit. “But somehow he’s kind of amusing, so I believe it’s gonna be fine.”  
> “Well, if you’re sure,” Winston shrugged and tapped against the table. “Good luck, man. And thanks. Can at least take my damsel somewhere further than McDonnalds.”  
> “I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” Thomas waved him off with a smile and Winston jogged away with a wide grin on his face.  
> Well, at least somebody was happy with their love life.

“Are you planning to sleep there as well next time?”

Thomas stopped like a deer in highlights in the middle of taking off his shoes when a female figure appeared between the doors. The light came up a moment after, showing Teresa looking at him in her pyjamas and rather dissatisfied expression. Her black hair was freely falling over her shoulders and almost reached her waist – for Thomas it was her favourite look. She always reminded him of a fairy and Thomas liked it a lot – when she didn’t look like she wanted to murder him as she did right now.

“I’m sorry,” he tried to act as innocent as he could, although he knew she was not buying it. “But you wouldn’t believe what just happened today.”

“Try me,” she crossed her arms on her chest and he knew she wasn’t really interested in the story, but wanted to hear a proper reason why he had come home so late – at half past ten to be concrete – so he took it as an excuse to tell her anyway.

He put his shoes away and straightened up, his body quite tired after the whole day of running around from place to place. The longest time he was able to just sit was at Newt’s place, trying to get the anamnesis out of him to know where to start. In the end the he concluded it was better to get his file from the hospital tomorrow, since Newt wasn’t really a person who liked to talk.

“When I stopped by for the clothes here,” he started when it was apparent she wouldn’t step away from the door until she heard the reason, “I met this guy in the hallway – sick and all – and he needed a caretaker, so I took the job.”

He shortened it as much as he could, judging from her impatient expression she wouldn’t stick around for the longer version anyway, and Teresa sighed in exasperation.

“Do you feel like you have little work?” she uttered coldly. “And are home too often?”

“It’s going to be better now, there are new employees by tomorrow, so I’m off the hook,” he promised her quietly and took few steps closer. “I promise.”

“Yeah, so you took another job,” she jabbed a finger into his chest when he was within reach. “So you, god forbid, had more free time all of sudden.”

“Teresa…”

“It’s fine,” she shrugged, but her eyes were telling an opposite story. “Whatever makes you happy.”

She stepped out of the way and her face was carefully blank. Thomas knew if he tried to coax her somehow, it would only make matters worse, so he remained quiet and disappeared from her sight.

It was difficult to explain the inactivity was making him anxious and he _needed_ to do something. Just sitting at home and watching TV was a torture if there wasn’t something else he could be doing at it – even just talking, really, to keep his brain busy. But Teresa’s ideal free day was usually just to drop somewhere and keep the silence while watching TV or sunbathing or reading, and Thomas just couldn’t.

Aris was probably right. There was something brewing above the horizon and Thomas didn’t know if he still had the strength to deal with it.

***

“It’s fine by me,” Winston shrugged and Thomas could see how his shoulders lifted in relief. At first he expected him to be against it, he would be stealing his job after all, but this reaction pleased him. “It’s not like I mind having more free time after this hellish month.”

“Yeah,” Thomas sat next to him and sighed. He should have probably thought about free time as well, but it just didn’t work. “I get that.”

“So what brings you to take the ordeal?” the black haired man asked him with a curious tone and pushed a cup with coffee towards him, like a returning gift. Thomas took it gratefully – he got out of the flat as fast as he could, given Teresa’s cold attitude – and didn’t really have time to eat or drink before that. “That guy is going to be a long term case, just so you know. His immune system is super weak and he’s prone to get sick pretty easily.”

“I’ve gathered as much,” Thomas nodded with a thoughtful expression. “He looked sickly from the first hello.”

“You’ve met him?” Winston raised an eyebrow in an honest surprise. “When?”

“Yesterday actually,” Thomas sipped the coffee and his body finally relaxed a bit. He had been tense since yesterday when he mauled over his current relationship situation, and the more he thought it through, the less confident he became. He understood that Teresa must have been pissed through this hectic time with him being home very little. But she had to understand, right? He had to work so they could pay the rent, and that kind of didn’t combine with being available at her every call.

He probably shouldn’t have taken the caretaker job. If he had that time now, he could have made up for it. Somehow. And go mad in the process, but still. Their relationship apparently needed the push, Aris was trying to warn him.

“Where?” his colleague interrupted his thoughts again. “I mean, I don’t think he’s really able to go somewhere. That’s the point of the caretaker, no?”

“He lives in the same building as my girlfriend,” Thomas explained and put down the cup. It warmed him up at least, the weather had been rather chilly lately, especially in the morning. “Met him yesterday fighting with the lock. When I came back in the evening and checked up on him, I met his previous caretaker and she mistaken me for her replacement. I talked it out with him and he agreed to work with me. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Well, he’s not really sunshine and bunnies,” Thomas chuckled, remembering the pissy attitude Newt maintained the whole visit. “But somehow he’s kind of amusing, so I believe it’s gonna be fine.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Winston shrugged and tapped against the table. “Good luck, man. And thanks. Can at least take my damsel somewhere further than McDonnalds.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” Thomas waved him off with a smile and Winston jogged away with a wide grin on his face.

Well, at least somebody was happy with their love life.

***

“Well, hello there, sunshine,” Thomas offered the brightest smile he could when the door opened with a blond boy standing in between them. He looked somehow better than yesterday, at least the colour in his face was healthier, although his expression didn’t change – he still looked somewhat displeased by his presence.

“You really came,” he uttered, looking Thomas over. “Why?”

“Because we have a deal,” Thomas pointed out and switched his weight to the left foot. “I told you I’m taking it and here I am. With your file and all.”

“I hoped you’re just a delusional mad man who doesn’t, in fact, work in the hospital,” Newt opposed and didn’t look like he wanted to step away from the door. It felt a bit like Déjà vu, just with different person.

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” Thomas let out a small shrug. “So… can I come in?”

“No,” Newt crossed his arms on his chest. “I already told you I can take care of myself. So take the file back to the hospital, or burn it or something, and we can both forget about it.”

“Oh please,” Thomas let out a sigh, his patience running thin. “You’re unable to open your own lock, do you really want me to believe you’re capable of taking care of yourself?”

“Yes!” the blond barked and the door swished closed, but Thomas reacted faster than his thought process could and the door stopped against his boot.

“I swear I’m going to use force if I have to,” he warned Newt with a low growl. “You may be feeling better _now_ or want to play it tough, but I’ve _seen_ you yesterday, man. You were out of it. So please.”

Silence, then a deep sigh from the other side, and the door opened again.

“You’re worse than Sonya,” the blond said with a frown and finally stepped away from the entrance. “She at least never threatened me with violence.”

“I’d only hit the door,” Thomas uttered and entered the flat. The temperature was lower than yesterday, so Newt probably felt better, or at least less chilly, and Thomas considered it a good sign. From his file he knew the immune system of this guy was weak as a trembling leaf in the middle of autumn, and he could get worse with a minor thing, like a cold wind or getting rained on, or somebody coughing at him. It had to be a pretty tough life, Thomas assumed, but he was ready to help him. His mind could at least turn off other problems.

“I still don’t understand what do you think you’ll be doing,” Newt followed him inside of the flat, his steps basically inaudible as if he weighted nothing – and quite frankly he probably didn’t, with how thin he was. “I can take my medicine, I can feed myself, clean after myself, believe it or not even go to the bathroom by myself. So what? Are you going to sit there and watch me do the chores?”

“I’m here in case things go wrong,” Thomas answered without looking back and reached the living room in meantime. The TV was off and only notebook was opened on the table next to the armchair, with steaming mug of tea that smelled really nice. “Not to mention you wouldn’t get a caretaker if you didn’t need him by hospital standards.”

“You people worry too much,” the blond passed him and seated himself into the armchair again. His feet were bare and trousers he wore a little short, covered almost to his knees by an oversized t-shirt.

“Well, you let Sonya take care of you, and she seemed to be fond of your happy self,” Thomas watched him carefully. “I’m sure you can get used to me as well?”

“Sonya is my sister, it’s kinda mandatory,” Newt responded dryly. “She was annoying me my whole life.”

“Oh,” the brunet blinked. It made sense – they looked a lot alike and it was his first thought as well when he saw her. “Well, think of me of an annoying adopted brother then?”

“Ugh.”

Thomas grinned and took out the copies of the file from the bag. He needed to go through it with him anyway, so he circled Newt’s armchair and sat in the one he did yesterday, claiming it as his own for the days to come. It made him see the whole room, it was pretty convenient.

“So… you’re pretty young, Newt,” he started when he opened the file, stopping at the boy’s age. “Seventeen, huh.”

“Yes, you fossils can’t understand my pubertal problems,” the blond commented without looking at him. “And just for your information, you look fifteen.”

“Tell me that when I’m at least forty,” Thomas smirked. “At twenty two it’s a little useless compliment.”

“Trust me, it’s _not_ a compliment,” Newt gave him a sideway glance and yea, he looked sort of young now when he was inspecting him properly and he hadn’t been hidden under a blanket, or convulsing with the coughing. He had those big, brown eyes and delicate features, and Thomas was almost sure he was going to grew a bit taller before he reached twenty.

“Okay, sweet seventeen,” he teased him anyway, earning a low growl in return. “Your immune system is shit, we can agree on that.”

“You don’t say.”

“So the immunoglobulin application is in progress,” Thomas ignored him and turned a list. “The readings are usually good. The worst what I can see had been… pneumonia.”

“Four years ago,” Newt added, gazing at him from half-lidded eyes, like he was judging him. Thomas thought he probably was, trying to find out the middle ground. They both had to get a good comfortable point, or the communication could get difficult. Thomas had that problem before with an older boy than Newt had been, Gally if he remembered correctly, and they had to break it off after a week.

“The white cells dropped drastically though,” Thomas read from another paper. It was from a screening four days ago, and that had been a reason why the caretaker possibility got opened for him. He had to be weaker than a child at this moment, and the pills definitely got to made him sick.

Playing it tough was his speciality it seemed, Thomas would probably even bought it if he hadn’t seen him yesterday. Well, Sonya warned him, so Thomas took it under his consideration.

“I tried to tell them not to, but they won’t listen,” Newt sneered and Thomas barked out a laugh.

“You know, I think we will get along just fine,” he told him happily. “I like your sense of humour.”

“You mean my _attempts to ridicule everything_?“ Newt replied bitterly and it sounded like something that was told him too often for comfort.

“Maybe,” the brunet shrugged. “I like it though. It’s amusing.”

“You’d be the first then,” the boy mumbled, more to himself than to Thomas. He stayed quiet for a moment, his fingers absentmindedly touching the keyboards of his notebook, until he glanced back at Thomas and he seemed a little less antagonistic.

“This is only temporary, right?” he asked in a smaller voice. “I’ll get better again.”

“Yep,” Thomas nodded without hesitation. “It’s just a small hiccup. It happens when people have weaker immune system, but since you haven’t underestimated it, all you need to do is be careful for some time, and then live as you did before.”

“You have experience with people like me?” another question, this time sounding curious, and Thomas closed the file with a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, and all of them are fine and dandy,” he assured him. “My presence is making aaaall better, you see?”

The antagonistic expression was back, but Thomas laughed it off anyway. This guy was going to be an interesting experience for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Sorry, I know it's so far not very interesting, but yeah.


	3. Lost Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t really feel like eating,” the blond croaked, but at least reached for the mug and sipped slowly. His eyes were still half-lidded and shoulders down, but somehow he looked slightly better anyway. “Reheated.”  
> “Might be,” Thomas admitted sheepishly, watching him cringing at the beverage. “I didn’t know when you’re going to wake up.”  
> “Ew.”  
> “Sorry.”  
> “Heathen,” Newt uttered, but sipped again despite of it. Thomas called it a win.

“I brought muffins and I’d like to exchange them for a key.”

“You didn’t even take me out for a date and already want a key?” came a reply and it sounded much better than how Newt currently looked – with tousled hair, dark circles under his eyes and pale skin that made Thomas worry immensely. He forced down the urge to check for fever right the first thing in between the doors and stepped inside instead, thankful Newt didn’t put up a fight. But he probably didn’t even have strength for it, so no wonder.

“Then I hope you don’t mind home dates, because I’m tired as hell and would prefer just to crash here and stuff myself with sweets,” he replied carefully and Newt simply shook his head before turning around and retreating to his lair.

Thomas followed him quietly, noting the flat temperature wasn’t as high as he expected it to be for how bad Newt actually looked, and put the box with muffins on the kitchen desk before turning back to the boy, who just climbed back on his armchair and buried himself in several covers.

“Want me to raise the heating?” he asked in a low voice. It felt like Newt was half asleep, his eyes dropping gradually, and if he barely kept awake and required sleep – which was something he apparently didn’t archive during the night – he was sure as hell he wouldn’t stop him in it.

“’s fine,” the blond mumbled, breathing out contently. “’m just tired.”

Thomas nodded and turned back to the counter to open the box he brought. He noticed an empty mug, seemingly prepared to be filled with tea, but abandoned only with a tea bag inside waiting for its bath. Next to it laid a plate with pills, few of them already missing, and Thomas curiously checked for the name before it hit him.

 _The pills Sonya warned me about_.

No wonder Newt was half dead, the pill definitely made any pain or possible negative feeling dull, but it also stripped him from ability to stay focused. He glanced back at the pile of blankets that hid the blond almost completely, and hummed quietly. It wouldn’t be against anything if he at least made him that tea he seemingly wanted.

***

“You made me tea?”

Thomas almost forgot he wasn’t alone in the flat when the weak voice broke the silence and his full focus on the next month schedule he got from the mail. The flat was until now so quiet it reminded him of a tomb, and since he looked up the pills Newt was taking as well, he wasn’t even surprised it knocked him out so thoroughly. The clock showed a little past five and Newt appeared a little healthier than before – or with more colour at least and less tired expression than two and half an hour earlier.

“Aren’t I nice?” he sent the blond a smile and refused to add that he reheated it several times just in case. “Dunno what kind of muffins you like the best, so take your pick.”

He filled a plate full of muffins and put them in order because he was bored, so when Newt gave him an eye roll after seeing the perfectly straight line organised by colour from the fairest to the fully chocolate one, he thought he kind of deserved it.

“I don’t really feel like eating,” the blond croaked, but at least reached for the mug and sipped slowly. His eyes were still half-lidded and shoulders down, but somehow he looked slightly better anyway. “Reheated.”

“Might be,” Thomas admitted sheepishly, watching him cringing at the beverage. “I didn’t know when you’re going to wake up.”

“Ew.”

“Sorry.”

“Heathen,” Newt uttered, but sipped again despite of it. Thomas called it a win.

“How often are you taking these meds?” he decided to change the topic when Newt seemed content again and lucid enough to comprehend what was going on around him. He made ton of notes for this guy, studied his file and all that came with it, and he was resolute in knowing everything there was to know about him to play the role perfectly.

“Once in two days,” came an easy reply and Thomas added it to the file. “Makes me hammered as hell.”

“I see that,” he nodded. “You feel like they help?”

“Well, they help me to sleep, that for sure,” Newt shrugged and gulped down the rest of the tea like he was dying of thirst. Thomas automatically stood up to make him a new one and it seemed like the boy was grateful when he handed him the mug.

“Didn’t get much of sleep at night I assume?” he continued with questions while searching the cabinets for the tea box. It was little like a maze – one cabinet was full of plates, other with cups and glasses, the next one with spices and other cooking ingredients and he couldn’t find the right one until Newt took a pity on him and pointed at the one on the far left, the smallest and packed with all kind of tea boxes.

“I’ve had better nights,” the blond drawled. “No biggie.”

Thomas contemplated it a bit, a various scenarios flashing through his mind – a coughing fit that could keep him up, a various kind of pains or nausea making the night rather uncomfortable, a stress rush that could occupy mind to an ugly degree for pretty long – anything could make his patient this way and he wasn’t sure how to ask him for the true reason without sounding too nosy.

“Do you need sleeping pills?” he asked instead, looking at him shortly just to see him yawn like a kitten. “I mean, some light ones, nothing heavy that would collide with your current medication.”

“Nah,” the blond shook his head slightly and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t sleep badly, usually. Just sometimes. Shit ton of annoying thoughts and such.”

_Ah, so stress it was then._

“Mkay,” Thomas voiced out in reconciliation and returned his gaze back to the boiling kettle and a mug. “Or, you know, I can sing you a lullaby or something.”

“I just need to sleep for few hours, not fall into coma for _months_ ,” Newt shot back, but the bite wasn’t as vicious; it sounded more like he was having fun, which made Thomas smirk. If he opened up to him, it would make their co-habitation a lot easier for sure.

“Rude, I have an amazing singing voice,” he decided to play along and when the kettle went off, he filled the mug with water and stirred it slightly. The heavy aroma immediately flooded the room and he heard Newt move behind him as if he got impatient. When he turned around, he found him perched on the armrest and it made him laugh so hard he almost spilled the tea on the carpet.

“Careful with that!” Newt barked and made grabby hands, so Thomas handed him the cup without comments, only with constant snickering and returned to his spot while Newt happily fell back into his nest. For a while he looked like he was maybe ten years old and got his favourite treat.

“So how do you feel?” Thomas wondered and closed his notebook with a soft click. “You look better.”

“Fine,” the boy mumbled. “Not dying yet.”

“Nothing hurts?”

“Your questions are close to cause me a mental pain soon,” the bite was back and Thomas snorted. It was a good sign, it didn’t even sounded that pissy anymore.

“They are not that bad _yet_ ,” he informed the blond happily. “Wait till I get to the nastier department, asking you about how many times you poop and what kind of consistency it has.”

“You’re disgusting,” Newt sent him a glare. “Stop talking.”

“Nah, you’d be sad if I stopped talking,” Thomas teased him with a wide smile. “I know you actually enjoy it.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” another eye roll. “A little more and you’re going to burst.”

“Aw, you talk so sweet,” Thomas grinned and pushed the plate closer to the boy. “Here, have a muffin.”

“I hate you.”

He got a glare, but in the end Newt actually grabbed one of the muffins anyway and ate it like a good boy. Thomas guessed him for a chocolate type, but he ate all blueberries to the last drop.

***

The faint sound of CIS Miami was the first thing he heard when he entered the hallway and quietly closed the door behind him. Teresa was apparently home and he felt a little lame for coming back so late again. He finished his shift at two and then spent the rest of the day at Newt’s place – until half past eight. He could have left sooner, Newt did look healthier, but he somehow refused to acknowledge the time and stayed until the boy fell asleep while watching a history channel and commenting on the lousy camera work (Thomas thought it was nice, but Newt insisted even he could do it better).

It was evening again and he didn’t remember the time he spent more than an hour with his girlfriend during the non-sleeping period. He was sure it was coming to bite him in the ass soon but for some reason it was difficult to do anything about it.

He stood in the hallway for a little longer, wondering what to say, until he took a deep breath and entered the living room to find Teresa sitting on a sofa with a glass of red wine in her hand. She barely looked up from the TV when he appeared and Thomas didn’t need to be a mind reader to know she was mad as hell.

“Hi,” he tried in a lower voice. “I brought muffins.”

She sent him an unimpressed look, roughly translated into _shove them wherever you want_ and returned back to the TV.

Thomas gave up.

***

Aris calling him wasn’t anything overly new, but sometimes it meant bad things and Thomas felt like today was exactly one of those occurrences. He watched his phone buzzing with _Sax_ tone playing loudly and dredged the moment he would pick it up.

He shot out of his flat very early this morning, Teresa was still asleep next to him, and he thought that being a coward was the best thing he could do right now. He didn’t have guts to _have a talk_ and he definitely didn’t want to let her drop another venomous glare either, so he just disappeared without having breakfast or coffee.

The fact it was Aris calling him after all this couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Not going to answer it?” Winston asked from his locker, giving Thomas a questioning look. It was end of their shift and they both were getting changed until Thomas’ phone went off and it basically halted everything.

“I don’t know if I want to,” he admitted quietly. “It’s probably about my girlfriend.”

“Is she calling?”

“No, her best friend,” he shook his head and watched Aris’ name and photo dance over the display with rising uneasiness. He knew it was going to explode, but he didn’t think it would be so soon.

“Yikes,” Winston sounded sympathetic. “Best luck to you then, mate.”

There was a gentle squeeze on his shoulder and then Winston left and Thomas wanted to flush his phone down the toilet. He took one deep breath. Then second. Then third. And when the phone was still ringing, he grudgingly brought himself to pick it up while his throat was tighter than a straw.

“How bad is it?” he asked with a strained voice before Aris could say anything, and a deep, disappointed sigh that came as an answer was enough of an indication.

“Dude,” Aris said after. “I never thought you can fuck up so badly.”

“She talked to you?” Thomas rubbed the bridge of his nose and felt the approaching headache in a speed of light.

“Yep,” an expected reaction. “You do realize you’ve been neglecting her for month and half?”

“I’ve been busy,” Thomas opposed. “And I know she doesn’t want to hear that, but I’m the one paying rent, that means I gotta work my ass off to do so.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Aris uttered coldly. “Anyway, she got pretty fed up and I guess you won’t be seeing her for a while. So good job on that.”

Thomas’ breath hitched. Did she move him out? Were they breaking up via Aris? Was he such a colossal dickhead he made his girlfriend unwilling to talk to him about such intimate topic and rather made her best friend to do her dirty work for her?

“So where is the luggage waiting for me?” he asked bitterly. Yes, he knew it was his fault, mainly, but hey, she didn’t work and who would pay the flat? Who would buy all the stuff? Instead of any kind of support she kept on bitching he was leaving her out of everything and spent too much time at work. And fine, yes, he was selfish and could have cut it down somewhere to be with her, but it wasn’t that easy. And when he wanted to make amends, she told him to stuff it.

_It was pretty much inevitable anyway._

“Nowhere,” Aris said simply. “She moved out.”

“ _She_ moved out?” he blinked in surprise and Aris let out a sigh.

“Mate, I get you, I really do. You were trying to make money so you could provide for everything, and with that you’re also right that you were the one paying the rent,” he told him with a much better attitude than before. “So that also means she can’t afford having a place like that.”

“But-,”

“I’d take it, if I were you,” Aris interrupted him softly. “For now, you know. I don’t think it’s permanent with you two, but maybe you need some space? And when things are going to calm down, this place is still home, you get me?”

“I get you,” Thomas mumbled unhappily. His stomach was tied into knots and he could feel the nausea hitting him in full force. There was nothing to _get_ about this. He just blew relationship worth of 3 years of their time just because he thought his work was more important than his girlfriend.

“Hey Thomas.”

“Yeah?” he sighed heavily.

“Just give her time. Then do something nice for her, just because. Show that you care,” Aris advised him in a comforting tone. “It’s not like she doesn’t love you anymore.”

Thomas mutely nodded, but the dull, empty feeling stayed.

It wasn’t like he had any strength left to think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Don't hit me please T^T


	4. Little Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Remind me why do I pay you?” a clearly British voice alarmed him into full wakefulness and he immediately spotted his blond patient sitting in his own armchair, peering at him over the edge of his mug. “Sleeping on the job, you’re unreal.”  
> “You don’t pay me,” Thomas opposed groggily, his body feeling every bad joint that appeared during his weird sleeping position. “Your insurance does.”  
> “My insurance asks the same thing,” Newt retorted.  
> “Tell your insurance I had a shitty day and I’m sorry for fucking up.”

It wasn’t a big flat. In fact it was probably a bit too small for two people consistently seeing each other, with only two rooms and a small bathroom. The bigger one in the back had been a bedroom, always a tad colder than the first one, ideal for sleeping and only with one middle sized window. They bought a big bed when Thomas moved in, dark wood and wide, bulky headboard, lower to the ground than normal beds for whatever reason (Teresa liked it, that was why). For two people the bed was ideal and Thomas stared at it for about five minutes when he got back, to the uncharacteristically quiet home with no TV on, no radio, no nothing. At first it didn’t even look like Teresa actually moved out, everything seemed to be on its rightful place, only hidden in shadows, and Thomas had to travel through the whole place to realize she basically only took her clothes and the rest were small, unimportant things.

True enough that the actual furnishing was there because of Thomas anyway, but it didn’t make it any less weird.

He watched the bed as if it could give him the answer he searched for, but he got none except the non-ending loop of Aris telling him Teresa moved out. Left him. Because he cared more about his work than he cared about her.

“It’s not like I…” he took a deep breath and then shook his head. It wasn’t like he didn’t care about her. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to spend time with her. Like he didn’t love her.

It was not.

Yet she had been gone for several hours now, and she was going to be gone for days, or weeks, or months, or maybe years or forever, he didn’t know. Gone because he fucked up.

He turned around and left the bedroom with a heavy sigh so he could crash onto sofa, his body suddenly heavy like if it had been full of boulders dragging him down and he didn’t know how to help it. He had no idea what to do, how to act. Was he supposed to call her? Beg her to come back? How about at least texting her? Or maybe call Aris, since she thought breaking up with him over that guy was the best decision either way.

_No, stop being bitter about it. You did this._

He took out his phone and stared at it mournfully for a while before unlocking it, revealing his and Teresa’s shared photo on the screen. Both smiling, both happy. Taken about a year ago, before he took the hospital job.

_Lame. I’m so fucking lame._

He rubbed his eyes and flipped the device next to him. When he was starting at the hospital, several nurses and doctors joked that the job ruined personal lives when you let it, that it was easy to get swallowed by the pace and duty. He thought it was a workaholic talk, more or less, even that everybody knew that fully fledged doctors had a tough time to keep up with their families with all the shifts and emergency calls.

He was no doctor. Yet it fucked up his personal life as well because he let it. And it wasn’t even that obvious to him, it sneaked up on both of them so slowly it only escalated now, a year later. It was always a shift he could cover for somebody, or an accident happening that required him to help, or just possibility to stay a bit later to talk with patients who had it rough to make them feel better.

Small things like that, balling up, multiplying, until he was sporting 12, 16 and 18 hours long shifts and came home tired, on board of exhausted, just to sleep for few hours and go to work again. At first Teresa only mildly complained, maybe more in a joke than in a serious accusation.

 _Are you having an affair with your job?_ She joked when he came back home late fourth day in a row and they both laughed it off. Until they didn’t, until only her cold, stony face greeted him, or bitter words of leaving her alone all the time flooded the space between them, or a venomous silence seeped into him like it wanted to kill him.

The signs were there, he saw them, he comprehended she didn’t fancy being alone, but he justified it with money income, with job he loved, with people he could help, that he completely pushed her out of his life.

_Serves me right._

He cowardly refused to enter the bedroom again and slept on the couch.

***

He woke up in four in the morning, his head hurt and his back attempted to make a pretzel out of itself, and it took him several attempts to make himself movable again without cracking like a hundred year old grandfather. He crawled out of the bed to the bathroom where he stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, not believing he could actually look so bad without getting wasted the day before or being generally sick. His brown hair was a mess, there were dark circles under his eyes and his skin was almost as white as Newt’s-

“Fuck!”

He ran out of the bathroom like a lightning, searching for pants and a shirt, jumping around on one leg while getting dressed and couldn’t chide himself enough. He left Newt alone the whole damn day! How could he possibly forget?! His brain must have gone completely offline to leave out the boy like this. God, he was such a dickhead!

He almost killed himself on the stairs and once he was standing in front of the door, he realized he didn’t get the key he wanted yesterday, it was past four in the morning and Newt was probably asleep and not very keen on Thomas waking him up. If there was a better equivalent of _go fuck yourself_ Thomas would definitely want to hear it to feel at least a bit better.

He breathed out and leaned against the door in a moment of annoying helplessness. What if Newt got worse? What if he needed help while Thomas was sulking upstairs in an existential crisis of his own inability to maintain a personal life along with professional? What if he was waiting for Thomas to arrive and got disappointed?

Wait, well, no, that wouldn’t really be Newt, would it.

But still. Anything could have happened and Thomas was supposed to be there to prevent it, but he was such a useless douchebag he forgot about his duty while mentally slapping himself.

He remained there for about a minute before tried at least knocking. Ringing the bell felt like a bit too much so early and he had no excuse to lounge here uselessly anyway – he made a mental note to ask for a phone number, because really, what was he thinking? – and waited with bated breath.

Nothing. Naturally.

Then, after several more seconds, the door suddenly opened and Newt stood in between them with raised eyebrows, in pyjamas, barefooted and not looking sleepy at all. There was a faint noise of television coming from the living room and Thomas felt a whole string of rolling stones to drop from his shoulders when he realized the boy was alright.

“You mad?” the blond tilted his head to the side, eyeing him warily. “It’s four in the morning, crazy.”

“Yeah,” Thomas nodded stupidly. “Sorry.”

“I thought you were supposed to come here during the day, not bother me so early,” another jab and Thomas could tell Newt was angry at him. He just wasn’t sure if because he didn’t appear as he should have or because he did at such stupid hour. Or maybe both.

“Sorry.”

“It’s basically still night, it’s dark outside.”

“I know,” he nodded quietly and waited for another accusation with head bowed low. There was silence after and then a sigh came, sounding pretty much as exasperated as Thomas expected.

“You look like shit.”

He glanced back at the blond, shrugging slightly and when Newt held his ground, he cleared his throat and nodded.

“Had a bad day,” he elaborated quietly. “Dealt with some personal things. Forgot about coming here. And remembered now, so. I’m sorry.”

“Uh huh.”

“Didn’t do it on purpose,” he added lamely. “Was everything alright?”

Newt crossed his arms on his chest and rolled his eyes, a posture clearly emitting annoyance and Thomas waited for a nasty comeback with a cringe.

“I already told you I can take care of myself,” the blond said with his usual bite. “As you can see, still alive.”

“Yeah.”

“Bloody hell, you really do look like somebody kicked your puppy,” Newt groaned and stepped away. “Come on in. I feel sorry just by looking at ya.”

For a while Thomas wanted to react somehow, but when he opened his mouth and no words came, he just simply nodded and entered the flat in a slow pace.

_Way to go, being belittled by a 17 years old._

***

He woke up with a full body jerk and confusion settled in like a heavy curtain. The room was unknown, dark and with a lingering smell of sweets hanging in the air. There was a vague sound of music coming from somewhere on the right of where he apparently slept until now and it took him a long, agonizing moment before he realized it was Newt’s place, Newt’s living room, and he seemingly fell asleep in the armchair.

There was a music channel on in the TV playing _Lost Souls_ and the clock on the wall showed something past nine. Thomas rubbed his eyes sleepily and a blanket he didn’t remember putting on slid from his shoulders.

“Remind me why do I pay you?” a clearly British voice alarmed him into full wakefulness and he immediately spotted his blond patient sitting in his own armchair, peering at him over the edge of his mug. “Sleeping on the job, you’re unreal.”

“You don’t pay me,” Thomas opposed groggily, his body feeling every bad joint that appeared during his weird sleeping position. “Your insurance does.”

“My insurance asks the same thing,” Newt retorted.

“Tell your insurance I had a shitty day and I’m sorry for fucking up.”

It made Newt quiet for a while, but Thomas could see he was about to ask anyway and he wasn’t sure how ready he was to share. The only thing that made him relieved was a day off he earned today, as if it somehow knew he would need it, so the late hour didn’t really phase him and it seemed like it didn’t bother Newt either.

“There are still some muffins left,” the blond said suddenly. “If you’re hungry.”

“You still haven’t eaten them?” Thomas raised an eyebrow. He left him about four of them here for future needs and considered it not as much, giving the sweet tooth the boy apparently had. But he couldn’t really be a judge of that, the ones he brought home before were definitely still there as well.

“Nope,” Newt shrugged casually. “Wasn’t hungry.”

“Have you eaten at least _something_?” Thomas gave him a scrutinizing look, earning another shrug.

“I don’t remember.”

“No wonder you’re like a big spider, all long limbs,” Thomas mumbled and crawled out of the cocoon he slept in, his body rewarding him with several more loud sounding pops.

“Oi.”

“I’ll go buy something. Any special wish?” he ignored Newt’s offended tone and the boy hmphed, so he took it as a no.

He knew he’d definitely kill for good coffee.

***

The coffee shop was crowded and busy, and Thomas found it somewhat calming. He stood at the end of the line and watched people passing him with either satisfied expression while getting their daily dose of caffeine, or with grumpy mumbling because they didn’t get to it yet. He felt a little dull for either of those moods, thoughts mingling chaotically, so when he reached the counter, he realized he had no idea what kind of coffee he even wanted and blurted out:

“Make me your favourite drink.”

A dark haired boy with a name tag saying “Minho” behind the counter smirked and snapped his fingers towards the barista with a devilish smile. Thomas was a little afraid what he was going to get.

He was presented with scandalous amount of whipped cream several minutes later with the guy personally handing it to him and then leaning over the counter.

“Enjoy, dude,” _Minho_ said with a wide smile. “You look like you need lots of sugar to get back on your feet.”

“If I don’t get diabetes from this one, then probably never,” Thomas retorted with a snort, taking the drink gratefully. “Thanks though. Nice pick.”

“Help when I can,” he grinned. “Long night maybe?”

“Eh, you can say that,” Thomas shrugged. “Life’s getting a bit bitchy lately.”

“I hear you,” the coffee guy nodded. “You Thomas by the way?”

“Huh?” Thomas stopped mid sip, blinking in surprise. “Yeah, Thomas, but how do you know?”

“Little bird told me,” came a reply. “Thought you’d be taller.”

“I’m sorry?” Thomas put the drink down, a frown formed on his face. How did the hell this guy know him?

“Well,” _Minho_ fished for his phone, then searched for a while, until he found what he wanted – an apparent photo of Thomas, sleeping, pretty sure in Newt’s flat, and with a text saying: _Should I fire that slacker?_

_ _

 “Newt,” Thomas groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That little…”

“Nah, chill, he likes you,” an apparent friend of his patient grinned happily and pushed the drink closer to Thomas. “This is on the house. You know, for putting up with him. A full time job, really.”

“You tell me,” Thomas mumbled, took a drink and glanced one last time at the photo with a sigh. “I normally don’t sleep on the job.”

“I’m sure,” Minho nodded in agreement.

“I had a bad day yesterday.”

“Sure you had, dude,” another nod.

“Eh, forget it.”

“Mkay,” _Minho_ waved him off and Thomas was wondering if this amount of sugar really would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Couldn't leave Minho out xD Also ugh, random picture madness xD


	5. Way to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I brought you a pie though, shouldn’t you be nicer to me?” he poked the pile in amusement and it shook a little. “Blueberries. Since you seem to like them.”  
> Silence. Then:  
> “…a pie?”

“I don’t have your phone number.”

He found Newt huddled in covers on his usual spot looking somewhat more miserable than when Thomas left, and the higher room temperature told him all he needed to know. The fever must have popped up again and the first thing Thomas did was the tea and a hunt for the right pills while Newt watched him with half-lidded eyes.

“Why would you need my phone number?” he croaked at Thomas with too much effort to sound annoyed, but the edges were blurred into exhaustion and Thomas felt sorry for him to have such a jumpy condition. The medication he had helped, but it had a long onset of efficacy, so Newt was definitely in for a lot more moments like this one before his immune system would balance itself a bit.

“So you can send me my pictures while I’m sleeping as well,” he answered while watching the kettle boil and heard Newt choke a little, which served well for revenge. He wasn’t even sure how his sudden coma happened - he remembered coming to the flat, sitting down and suddenly he woke up about five hours later (talk about being knocked out thoroughly, maybe Newt hit him over head with something heavy?).

“Your pal is cool though,” he continued when Newt didn’t say anything and glanced at him over his shoulder for a good measure. He was red in the face and gnawed on his lower lip and it suddenly looked so out of place that Thomas didn’t even remembered to laugh.

“Are you blushing?”

“No!” the blond barked out and hid his face in his hands, successfully confirming Thomas’ accusation as if he gave it to him written down on a paper with his blood.

“Aw, so adorable,” Thomas cooed at him, turning around fully with a big smile on his face. At least something could lift his spirits up, if not his own personal life. The kettle went off behind him, but he ignored it and took several steps closer to the armchair, at which Newt buried himself under covers.

“Taking photos of me and sending it to your friends, who would have thought you can be so sweet?” he teased him without mercy and heard a groan coming from the pile. “Did I pass? Minho thought I’d be taller.”

“Shut up!” came a muffled bark and Thomas snickered. He expected him to shrug and say _so what_ , but this reaction was much better, even though a tad unexpected.

“I brought you a pie though, shouldn’t you be nicer to me?” he poked the pile in amusement and it shook a little. “Blueberries. Since you seem to like them.”

Silence. Then:

“…a pie?”

“Yep, pretty good if I may say,” he agreed and then a blond hair peeked out from the cover.

“From Minho’s shop?”

“From Minho’s shop,” he nodded and pointed at the counter where he put the boxes with food. He bought more of it, since Newt’s flat seemed to be rather starved for basically everything to be considered edible and Thomas wondered _what_ the boy ate when Thomas wasn’t here. There were even some healthy things, but mainly stuff that would make Newt a little stronger, with proteins and sugar, since seriously, that boy was a train wreck.

“Minho told you?” Newt’s voice sounded weak again and Thomas gave him a small, comforting smile.

“He told me lots of things,” he said simply and looked around for a thermometer. Newt seemed to be burning, and not just from embarrassment. “Showed me some photos, made me a really good coffee. When I got the food, he seemed to smile more than usual, which was probably him being satisfied with my choices.”

“Ah.”

Thomas found it on the table and he took it with checking for the previous numbers, just to frown a bit at it - 39,9, not good. How recent was it? Such fever was already dangerous. He quietly handed the device to the blond and he took it without complaining, which was a small win. He looked tired – or maybe exhausted – and Thomas didn’t want to rile him up with useless questions about how he felt, since it was pretty much apparent. Instead he returned to the kitchen counter, filled Newt’s favourite mug with hot water and reached for the pills he found earlier to get two of them on a small plate, then thought better of it, took them off and put a piece of pie there instead.

“Wouldn’t bed be better?” he asked when he put the steaming mug on a coffee table next to Newt’s chair and the boy seemed to doze off at moments. “I slept on the other one and still feel my body hating me.”

“I’m used to it,” Newt mumbled and the thermometer beeped as if in protest. There was a small frown on the blond’s face when he took the device from under the cocoon and looked at the display, at which Thomas considered the fever still pretty high. He handed it to Thomas right after without another word and the brunet sighed at the sight.

39,5. At least a bit lower, even though only stupidly little.

He gave Newt the pills and waited until he swallowed them and then crouched next to the armchair, watching the boy expectantly.

“How much did you sleep today?” he asked in a low voice. There were those dark circles under his eyes again and it seemed like Newt was needlessly pushing it, making himself worse with the lack of rest.

“Enough,” a stubborn reply.

“I’d say an hour or two,” Thomas pointed out. “You do realize sleep is probably one of the best healing factors ever?”

“You do realize you sound really annoying?” Newt uttered back and Thomas hummed, not backing up an inch.

“I sound like a caretaker,” he responded lightly. “And I don’t want to shatter your supposed tough image, but you should get some rest because I’m pretty sure you look much better when you don’t sport a zombie visage.”

“That’s not your business how I look or not,” the bite was strong in this one.

“True,” Thomas shrugged. “But it would be embarrassing to send photos of you to my friends like this, they’d just laugh at me.”

Newt’s face changed several expressions – starting from shock, then morphed into embarrassment and ended up at dissatisfaction Thomas kind of expected. Maybe bit of anger too, but so far it didn’t really appear.

“What, no retort?” he tilted his head to the side when the blond remained quietly fuming, and earned a scowl. “Pretty sure cuz you have no strength left. So how about you go to sleep, then be angry at me later?”

“The pie,” Newt grumbled and Thomas barked out a laugh. Still better than nothing, he mused when he stood back up and turned to the kitchen counter.

“But then you’ll sleep for a while, yeah?” he paused before handing it to him and Newt rolled his eyes.

“Yes, dad,” he muttered bitterly and it was enough for the moment.

The pie disappeared in the speed of light.

***

“Hmm… blood tests scheduled to next Wednesday,” Thomas mumbled to himself while going through Newt’s file for probably tenth time in a row. He was glad his patient fell asleep and it was a little scary how fast he was out, almost like he just fell into coma – no movement, no noise, he just slept on the couch where Thomas ordered him to go when he refused to use his own bed, and stayed in the same position for three and half hour. His fever diminished, thankfully, to almost bearable degree and Thomas couldn’t put a finger on why the boy would hold himself awake so long when he was clearly tired as hell.

Or starving. It really seemed like he was also unbelievably hungry – and he had food here, at least some, so that also played a weird part. He ate almost the whole pie by himself – so much Thomas was afraid he was going to throw it back up right after – and then just fell asleep like dead.

The previous results of his blood tests made him qualified for the caretaker and the more Thomas was looking them over, the more worried he became. Shitty immunity was one thing, but if he was consistently trying to make it worse by not sleeping and not eating, there was no helping him in the first place.

_Sonya might know what’s going on._

He let out a sigh and put the file away. The hospital should have had Sonya’s number if Newt wouldn’t help him out in it – which he probably wouldn’t out of spite – so there was at least one way out.

 _Or Minho_ , he mused. But that would probably be weird, if he just waltzed back to the shop and asked him about mental state of his friend.

He shook his head and buried himself lower into the armchair, his body still hurting at weird places from the unnatural sleeping position. He didn’t understand how Newt could actually sleep in that monstrosity every night – or day, depended when his body actually gave out from exhaustion.

Or maybe he was overanalysing it and Newt just had few bad days where he thought too much about future or past or maybe present itself when he didn’t feel good at all. Maybe he didn’t eat as much because his throat hurt from all the coughing and he got a little better now.

An insistent beep interrupted him from his thoughts like guillotine and it took him a moment before he realized it had been his phone he still had lodged in the pocket of his jeans. One look at the display made his stomach twist though.

**-15:20 – Teresa**

**So that’s it? I move out and you play dead?**

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course he should have texted her at least. Or called her. But he was so shocked yesterday he barely comprehended the situation and today his head was filled with Newt and he completely pushed it back.

 _Again_.

“Ugh,” he voiced out while staring at the text like it was a timed bomb – which probably was, since Teresa definitely waited for an answer and every second that passed was like a nail to the coffin of their relationship.

 _Sorry_ , he started to write, then stopped and deleted it. _I’ve wanted to call_ , another try, then he shook his head and deleted it as well.

**-15:25 – Thomas**

**Sorry I’m such a douchebag.**

He pressed send and hit his forehead with the phone in a complete and utter defeat. Did it sound attacking? It probably sounded like he was angry. But he wasn’t, he was just… a douchebag. He lived with a girl he loved and he let her think he didn’t anymore and when he could make amends, he rather fell asleep and wasted the opportunity.

Damn, he was wasting it now as well.

**-15:27- Teresa**

**God, you’re unreal. That’s all you have to say?**

“Yeah,” he mumbled to himself. “All I have to say.”

- **15:30- Thomas**

**Maybe we just both need time to cool off.**

What a stupid thing to say. It was like telling her he was glad she left him – which he wasn’t. But on the other hand – if she changed her mind and returned home, it would all begin anew. He still worked long, he still wasn’t home properly – hell, even now he was at Newt’s place, watching over him instead of being in his own living room, reading or something on his day off.

Or spend it with his girlfriend.

**-15:31- Teresa.**

**I give up.**

Well. Ex-girlfriend, really.

_Way to go, Thomas. Way to fucking go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Relationships. What a paaaaaaain when they go wrong, eh.


	6. Hysterical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh really,” Brenda leered and leaned over the counter. She was so small she barely reached there properly, so it was a little funny when she tried. “You got another patient for the caretaking? Thought you were pretty busy even without it.”  
> “I like to stay that way,” he shrugged it off. Him working too much or too long wasn’t a topic he wanted to deal with again, no matter with who. “Plus the guy really need help, he just doesn’t think so.”

“What can I do for you, stud muffin?”

Thomas barked out a laugh and gave a petite black haired girl an amused wink. Brenda could always lift his spirits up, no matter how shitty his mood had been, with her outgoing attitude and precise remarks. She had been working as a nurse a tad longer before Thomas took the job here and helped him through several newbie mistakes and unknowns. In her nurse uniform she looked even smaller and younger, but patients usually adored her just by looking at her, with her big eyes and charming smile.

“Need bit of an info on one of the patient I’m taking care of right now, you minx,” he returned her banter with a smile, hoping he didn’t look as bad as he felt in the morning. He slept the whole night, yeah, but the dreams were pestering him immensely and they all revolved around Teresa leaving in all kind of situations, for several reasons he couldn’t really bear to hear. Once even for Aris, telling him she never loved Thomas anyway, and as much as he knew it was only his head playing with him, he woke up bitter and angry.

“Oh really,” Brenda leered and leaned over the counter. She was so small she barely reached there properly, so it was a little funny when she tried. “You got another patient for the caretaking? Thought you were pretty busy even without it.”

“I like to stay that way,” he shrugged it off. Him working too much or too long wasn’t a topic he wanted to deal with again, no matter with who. “Plus the guy really need help, he just don’t think so.”

“Aww,” she smirked at him and asked about the name so she could search for the file. Even though Thomas had a copy of one on him, the nurses had their own category where they kept the personal information – like phone numbers, family members and statuses for the administrative needs.

“There we go… Newton, yeah?” she fished it from the drawer and opened it. “Oh, what a young fella.”

“Yeah, shitty immunity status,” he nodded with a sigh. He stayed at Newt’s place yesterday until the boy woke up again – seven hours later, precisely – and fed him to bursting, checked for fever and medication, and made him tea. Newt seemed to apprehend everything rather groggily at first and then started coughing again which delayed Thomas for another half an hour until he was sure it was more of a fit than a long term torture. He tried to ask him for Sonya’s number, but Newt passed it as if he didn’t even hear him and Thomas couldn’t say it surprised him.

“His number?” Brenda raised head again, looking at him in question and Thomas almost said no before he realized he didn’t know it either.

“Yeah, his and his sisters’,” he agreed and she took a paper where she scribbled down both names and numbers. “Sometimes it’s hard to deal with him.”

“Worse than with that Gally guy?”

“Nothing worse than with Gally,” he snorted. That one was a tough nut, that for sure. They parted pretty soon and until now Thomas wasn’t sure whose fault it was more.

Brenda smiled and gave him the paper with a wink. She always seemed to understand the working pace all of them were in, and the lack of personal life, or the time for it. He mused that if he dated her – or any other nurse on that matter – it would probably be better with the reception at first. Except at that point neither of them would have the time and it could end badly for the opposite reason.

“You should get some sleep though,” she nudged his shoulder slightly. “You look tired.”

“Ah.” So it was apparent. His face _always_ betrayed him. “Yeah, I am.”

“Troubles in paradise?” she grinned, and even though he knew she meant good, it stung a little. She knew about him and Teresa, although she didn’t know the gal personally, and he always presented it idyllic, sometimes probably more than it had been, just to avoid the topic.

“Sort of,” he admitted and felt his shoulders lower in defeat. “We broke up, actually.”

“You what?” her face suddenly morphed into an honest shock. “Damn. Sorry, you okay?”

“Well, yeah,” he tried to shrug it off, but it probably looked as lame as he felt it was. “Just weird, after three years.”

“We can go for a drink if you want to talk it out?” she offered gently. “I’ll ask Winston and Ben to go, I’m sure they wouldn’t pass an opportunity to drink themselves under the table.”

“Maybe some other day,” he smiled at her gratefully and waved the paper she gave him. “Thanks for the info. You’re a saint.”

“Mhm,” she voiced out, probably not knowing if she should be apologetic or try to cheer him up. “Take it easy though, yeah? If anything, just call.”

“Will do.”

_Maybe._

***

“Hello?”

“Hi! Sonya, right?” he turned his back to the crowded hallway and his heart skipped a beat a little. He knew Sonya was a nice girl, at least from what he saw the other day, but it still felt a little awkward to talk to her about her brother the way he wanted to. “It’s Thomas. Newt’s current caretaker.”

“Oh!” her tone immediately changed into more pleasant one and he felt himself relaxing under it. “Hi! How is it going?”

“Good, good,” he answered politely. “I just had a few questions about Newt, if you don’t mind? You have time?”

“Sure, I have a moment, it’s fine,” she assured him and he heard chattering in the background, as if she was somewhere similarly crowded as he had been. “What’s up? Is he giving you a hard time?”

“Not as much,” he chuckled at her immediate suggestion. “But it’s more about his… well. How to say this… Okay, just – does he sleep properly? Had he have problems with it or is he suffering from insomnia?”

“Bad sleeping?” she asked in a confused voice. “No, he never slept badly. I’d say he slept a bit too much before, you know, tired all the time and all. Does he have troubles?”

“I don’t know, but it feels like he has, probably,” he regretted he didn’t have a certain data for her, but he didn’t want to needlessly scare her either. “As well as eating disorder?”

“What?” now she sounded positively alarmed. “Eating disorder? No way, he never… Are you sure?”

“No, not sure,” he sighed and leaned against the wall. “The point is – every time I come there he doesn’t sleep at all, or looks like he would, but he’s pushing not to. And he didn’t eat properly for two days either, only when I got there, so… just asking, if it doesn’t ring the bell?”

“Oh god.”

“It’s not like it needs to mean anything,” he hurried up to calm her down, although it felt like it was too late already. “There is stress in play as well; he may just have had bad few days.”

“Please, Thomas, take care of him,” she pleaded him and sounded rather distressed. “I’m out of the state right now, otherwise I would… goddammit. Please, I swear if he’s getting worse…”

“No worries,” he stopped her wailing quickly. “It was just a question, there is nothing life threatening going on. I was just confused; there was nothing in the file, so I thought I’d ask.”

“He never had those problems, I swear,” her voice didn’t change and he felt bad for scaring her so stupidly. “God, what he got himself into _now_?”

“Just leave it to me,” he assured her. “I won’t let him out of my sight.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and he would swear he heard her sob as well. “I gotta go now, but… thank you.”

This day was getting better and better.

***

Thomas knew something was going on when Newt didn’t talk to him at all and seemed like he was trying very hard to pretend Thomas didn’t exist. He was still pale and sickly looking and occasionally coughed with an ugly noise of a badly starting car, but he stayed on his usual spot covered in blankets and pretended to watch TV instead of asking for help (which he never did, so that wasn’t as shocking).

Thomas didn’t push him – he moved around the flat without a word – made him tea, checked the pills and prepared them, reheated food and tried to clean up a bit, especially the dirty dishes that started to smell in the sink. When the heavy silence lasted for half an hour and Newt apparently refused to touch anything Thomas prepared for him and put almost in front of his face, he stopped in front of the TV and crossed his arms on his chest.

“Yes, I talked to Sonya,” he touched the most possible reason why his patient decided to act like a child. “Yes, I told her you don’t sleep and eat properly.”

“Yes, thank you,” Newt uttered and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Dickhead.”

“You never had problems with that before,” Thomas ignored the insult profusely and adopted more sober tone. “You slept and ate normally. So what’s the problem?”

“You are the problem,” another nasty reply. His voice was openly hostile and Thomas had an urge to slap him over his head. God, this was Gally all over again.

“You do realize if you keep this up, your body will say fuck you and collapse?” Thomas pointed out. Sonya sad tough love worked on Newt better than being nice and as much as Thomas didn’t like the option, he was starting to get desperate. “You know with lack of sleep you’ll exhaust even the little of energy you’re getting, and without food you will simply speed it up?”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re pushing it,” Thomas gritted his teeth. His patience was running thin and the more defiance he saw in Newt’s face, the faster it was disappearing from his grasp. “You’re pushing it so much, Newt. You’ll destroy yourself and I’m not even kidding. You’re getting worse day by day.”

“Nobody is holding you here to watch me!” the blond snarled, his face angry. “Just leave!”

The sudden outburst made Thomas silent for a second, a little shocked by the words and he had to take a deep breath to stop himself returning the hostile tone with a similar one. What was the point Newt was trying to make? God, that boy was seriously a maze.

“No,” he refused blankly when the inner equilibrium balanced itself again. “I’ve promised your sister I’ll take care of you. So no. Not leaving.”

“My sister now thinks I’m a serious mental case with heavy eating disorder, thanks to you,” Newt barked at him, and his voice hitched a little, resulting in a slight coughing fit. His whole body shook violently with it and Thomas had an urge to grab him by his shoulders and shake some sense to him. In his condition it would probably make things lot worse though.

“Then tell me why you don’t sleep? Or eat?” Thomas urged him unhappily. He had to know by doing this it would result in a much worse state – not better. Or unchanged. He already must have been weak, and with lifestyle like this it was a miracle he could still stand on his own feet.

“I do,” the blond uttered dryly. “You’ve seen me eat. And sleep.”

“Yes, but you do only when I am here so-,” Thomas stopped, blinked and then did a double take on what he just said. That made sense, didn’t it? Newt always looked like he deluded sleep for too long when Thomas came for a visit – dark circles and tired body holding, but when he was there, suddenly Newt was able let the reality go and curl into a ball for a nice rest, or actually eat on that matter (devour more like, since the food always disappeared like he was literally starving). But why not alone? It was like he had been scared to do with nobody watching, and it sounded farfetched, but something must have been true about it.

Newt watched him with uncertain expression and Thomas stared back until he, very carefully, took a step closer and asked: “Newt. Is there a possibility that you, in fact, want me here?”

“I, in fact, _did_ ,” the blond avoided Thomas’ eyes stubbornly. “But since you’re such a dickhead and called my sister-,”

“I asked her if you had troubles before-,”

“ _My sister_ who now thinks I’m _dying_ here without her,” Newt raised his voice a tad, successfully shutting Thomas’ protests up. “If she fucks up her finals because of you being hysterical, you’re gonna pay, I swear you do.”

Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but when no words actually came out, he closed it again and then shook his head. He kind of wanted to laugh from the sheer absurdity of the situation, and kind of wanted to give Newt an earful for the attitude, but in the end settled on a small chuckle and a shrug.

“Who is being hysterical?” he retorted. “You’re slowly getting yourself starved and sleep deprived and I’m being hysterical?”

“I told you I _do_ sleep and eat!” Newt barked again and the coughing seized him once more, which made Thomas cringe. His whole body shook so violently, he really needed to gain a pound or two, _Jesus_ , he looks like he would snap in half.

“Fine,” he gave in when the coughing subsided again and Newt just wheezed a bit. “You’re a full time job, I get it. So let’s make a deal.”

“No deals,” Newt immediately refused. “You called-,”

“Then be straight with me!” Thomas stopped him when the patience hit the wall and his voice probably rose up more than he wanted it to – but it worked, Newt shut up, eyes wide. “If you’re going to lie or won’t tell me this stuff, I gotta make conclusions, and assume, and that means bad things for both of us. Like calling your sister, for example.”

“I didn’t lie,” the blond opposed weakly.

“I think you kinda did,” Thomas crossed his arms on his chest again “Look. I will stay here as long as it’s needed. But you gotta tell me what you want, okay?”

“I want you gone,” the bite was back.

“No, you don’t,” Thomas seized him in a cold stare. “Stop playing it tough.”

“You’re mean to me,” this time it sounded like Newt was sulking a little, and it was kind of hilarious, really. Kudos to Sonya for the tough love advice, because as nasty as it was, it worked.

“Once you stop acting like a kid, I won’t be mean to you,” Thomas shrugged and when Newt opened his mouth to oppose with something, he frowned and the boy stopped himself in time. “That’s a good boy. Now eat. And get some rest.”

With that he walked to the table and pushed the plate with food into Newt’s hands. It was already lukewarm, but that was his own fault and it didn’t make the food inedible anyway. Newt stared at the plate for a second and then gazed at Thomas like he was expecting something more.

“You lost an ability to feed yourself too?” Thomas tilted his head to the side. “Or was it just a common sense?”

Newt huffed and reached for the fork so he could dig in. Thomas considered this sole act as an ultimate victory and retreated to the kitchen counter to prepare something for the evening.

“You’re so annoying,” he heard the blond grumble behind him, but decided not to react to it. He just won the battle, but he feared the war was still raging on anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I absolutely love when a character who is bisexual or gay is being told: "I need you to be completely straight with me!" Oh boy.


	7. You do it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I mean who is she to you,” Newt gave him an exasperated look. “I get that she’s a nurse, I’m not daft, I heard ya.”  
> “A friend,” Thomas repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Or are there some labels I’m not aware of? She’s a colleague; we work together, sometimes go for a drink and throw up together somewhere. She’s cool, like, really friendly and supportive.”  
> “Like a sex friend?” Newt stared at him and Thomas almost choked at that notion.  
> “No,” he grumbled unhappily. “Geez.”

Dealing with Newt was like taming a wild beast sometimes, and then taking care of a cub in the rest. There was one set of medication Newt’s body didn’t really fancy and usually compensated for it with stomach aches or nausea, which naturally made Newt pissy as hell. At that point Thomas left him alone and did his own work or prepared something to eat for the time Newt would be able to keep it in him and not throw it back. Thankfully it was also a period of time where Newt decided that sleep was indeed the best healing factor and curled up in his armchair for few hours. Thomas had to admit it made their cohabitation a lot easier, because otherwise he kept on barking at him and sometimes Thomas really thought he had to have rabies and getting close was dangerous because he could bite him.

Most of the time it was bearable though, at least enough for Thomas not feeling he should have strangled the kid to let out some frustration over his behaviour. He decided to make a deal at the hospital to come only twice per week or in emergency cases, since leaving Newt alone proved more harmful than anything else, with the boy refusing to sleep and eat for some reason, and Thomas dissented to repeat the shout fest from few days ago. It was awkward for a bit after, like they were searching for some middle ground again, but when Newt apparently realized he was indeed not getting rid of Thomas anytime soon, he seemed to calm down and his bitter remarks about Thomas telling his sister diminished to only one per day occurrence (Thomas’ hands always twitched at it, but he still had enough self-control and never really pounced the teen for it).

“Blood tests tomorrow,” he circled the date in the calendar Newt had hanging on the wall. It was a colourful set of photographs of all kind of scenic views all over the world and Thomas really liked it, especially the one from exotic islands with clear blue water and shining sun. Under the photos there were big columns for writing in and it already sported several entries in the same month, all kind of treatment notes, then some of Sonya’s handwriting (Newt said) and unintelligible scribbles that apparently belonged to Newt alone (Thomas didn’t understand a word).

“Ew,” came from the pile on the armchair, accompanied with a loud yawn. It was about ten minutes since Newt stirred awake again, hair tousled and eyes hazed, after another six hours long sleep where Thomas suspected him dead for a while, before he rather checked for breathing. He was so still it was almost unreal, especially in the position he fell asleep in (Thomas called it _a pretzel_ ) and in which he stayed until he woke up again. The bed was apparently still off limits, no matter how often Thomas tried to bring it up and send Newt there, the blond refused and rather stayed in his armchair, or as a sign of his goodwill, slept on the couch.

“I’ll let the hospital know to send somebody,” Thomas mumbled, staring at the calendar with a thoughtful expression. “Brenda, preferably.”

“Who’s Brenda?” Newt yawned again and reached for a mug Thomas put there few minutes ago. He took one sip and his expression softened.

“A nurse, friend of mine,” Thomas answered and turned away from the calendar, successfully memorizing all the important content. “You’ll like her, she’s the best.”

“Can’t you do it?” the blond glanced at him with a slight frown. “You’re a nurse too, no?”

“No, not really,” Thomas chuckled and walked towards the armchair so he could lean next to Newt’s head. “I can do it, of course. But it would be better if somebody more qualified did and Brenda is good.”

“Why can’t I go to the hospital instead?” Newt asked unhappily and Thomas wondered if he was more bothered by the fact he would get his personal space breached by another unknown person or because Thomas ordered him to stay home without asking.

“I’d rather if you didn’t leave the flat yet,” Thomas shrugged and when Newt _hmphed_ , he reached for his hair and pulled at one of the strands as a reprimand. Newt didn’t do anything against it but he pouted a bit, which was kind of adorable. “We will see after the test, how about that? You seem a little better, the fevers are almost gone, but I don’t want to risk anything.”

“Mother hen.”

“You like it,” Thomas teased him with a smile and ruffled his hair one last time, earning a small whine. “I’ll schedule the tests for morning, about eight, you okay with that?”

“I want you to do it,” Newt mumbled.

“Brenda is better,” Thomas opposed. He did the tests already, it wasn’t like he would hurt the boy in the process or mess it up, but it was still better to have somebody really qualified for the job, who did that on daily basis. And Brenda did, she was awesome with people and Thomas preferred her before any other nurse from the whole hospital.

“I don’t care,” a stubborn answer. “I don’t know her.”

“Well…” Thomas rubbed the back of his neck and Newt took another sip from his tea, suddenly completely calm. It was eerie and Thomas knew it meant bad business.

“You do it.”

_Or course. Stubborn cub._

“Don’t be stubborn,” he groaned when he saw the already too well known defiance settling in Newt’s eyes, from which Thomas immediately knew he became a fortress and changing his mind was nearly impossible. “She won’t be here long. Just few vacutainers and that’s it.”

“Yeah, so why bother go all the way here when you’re perfectly qualified to do it as well?”

Nope, not able to move him at all.

“I’m not going to change your mind no matter what I say, am I,” he crossed his arms on his chest and Newt smirked, because he was a little shit and knew he won and sometimes it made Thomas so mad he would be able to throw a pillow at him to wipe away that expression. “Ugh, fine. But don’t whine when you’ll have a bruise on your arm after.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage just fine,” Newt responded sweetly and started digging himself from the cocoon of his blankets. He seemed rather clumsy, probably still sleepy, and Thomas wondered how much his back must have hated him for sleeping in that chair all the time. “Who is that Brenda anyway?”

“Told you,” Thomas shrugged, watching him from the armchair. “A nurse and my friend.”

“I mean who is she to you,” Newt gave him an exasperated look. “I get that she’s a nurse, I’m not daft, I heard ya.”

“ _A friend_ ,” Thomas repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Or are there some labels I’m not aware of? She’s a colleague; we work together, sometimes go for a drink and throw up together somewhere. She’s cool, like, really friendly and supportive.”

“Like a sex friend?” Newt stared at him and Thomas almost choked at that notion.

“ _No_ ,” he grumbled unhappily. “Geez.”

“Why not?” the blond shrugged and walked towards the bathroom, his voice getting weaker with a distance, but still hearable.

_Unfortunately…_

“You said she is cool.”

Thomas rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath before being able to answer. Brenda was a good friend, maybe even a best friend when he thought about it. She mostly knew about everything that happened in his life – at that point only Teresa had been the one that literally knew about his every move. And sometimes not even her, since there were things Thomas was happier she never found out about.

The point was – Brenda was _only_ a friend. Sure, when they met there probably was an initial sparkle – or at least Thomas felt an immediate inclination towards her – but he was with Teresa already and he was happy with it, and Brenda refused to get _imprisoned_ , as she would say, by a relationship clichés and responsibilities she could barely fill with the work pace. They bonded as two souls in need, maybe, and remained that way since. He trusted her with everything, but he really _never_ slept with her.

“That doesn’t mean we’re having sex,” he managed to find a reasonable reply and shook his head. Well, teenagers, no shame in asking. “Not to mention, sex breaks friendships, you never heard?”

“Does it?” Newt reappeared back in the living room, his eyebrows raised. “What if you start off as sex friends to begin with?”

“How about you sit your ass down and eat,” Thomas grumbled and pointed at the table where he prepared food. “Talking about sex with you is making me seriously uncomfortable.”

“Get used to it,” Newt stuck his tongue at him, but actually did shut up then and sat down to eat. Thomas wondered how much his sister would hate him if he started up a tradition of a slap per day to teach him some humility.

***

“Ayyyy, Thomas man!”

“Hey,” Thomas nodded towards the black haired barista with a small chuckle and stopped at the counter. The coffee shop was quiet and half-full and Thomas didn’t even need coffee to function, but he felt like stopping by anyway. The clock showed something past seven in the morning and he kind of expected most of the people to arrive here at 8 and flood it with requests for caffeine.

“Need some sugar dose again?” Minho grinned at him from behind the counter and Thomas grew a little wary.

“Is there a new photo or something?” he eyed the man suspiciously and Minho shrugged as if he knew nothing about it – which definitely meant he knew something, or there was full gallery of Thomas doing things in awkward positions and Newt was a little shit and sent it to this guy – and ton of other people, probably. But since he didn’t really look like he was keen on showing him, Thomas let it slide, but made a mental note to give Newt a four times reheated tea.

“Was just askin’,” Minho assured him. “How’s going with him and stuff, you know. Is he getting better at least? He thinks it’s okay to be vague.”

“He thinks lot of stuff he shouldn’t,” Thomas uttered dryly and checked the board for something to drink. “Eh, you know, give me just black coffee. I think I’ll need it today.”

“Yeah?” Minho raised an eyebrow, but made the order anyway. “He did somethin’?”

“Not yet,” Thomas mumbled and when Minho handed him the cup, he let out a sigh at it. He didn’t really drink black coffee on daily basis – too bitter and strong and it tasted like something died in it – but with stress piling up he sometimes needed it to steady his hands. Or his thoughts. There were the blood tests – which wasn’t such a big deal, really, although he still contemplated to stop at the hospital and ask Brenda to come with him – but he had a long ass call with Aris yesterday night and it still played in his head like a broken record.

It wasn’t like Aris was a bad guy, or a mean one, but he had a knack on dealing with things rather dramatically sometimes, so when he decided to talk with Thomas about the future with Teresa, he made him so agitated through the talk that Thomas had a feeling he’d flush the phone down his toilet just to avoid the rest.

Of course Aris and Teresa were still talking – probably more than usual, besties and all – but it still made Thomas bitter and he was pretty sure Aris knew it and that’s why he depicted everything they did on the weekend in painful detail, just to rile Thomas up for some action.

None came, except of Thomas being grumpy and hanging up on him after 46 minutes. Unfortunately it didn’t help him with afterthoughts and the whole night was more like a nightmare coming alive, which sucked.

So yeah, black coffee. Lots of coffee.

“I didn’t even ask,” he realized after a moment and glanced back at Minho. “You’re Newt’s classmate or...?”

“Just a mate,” Minho smirked. “We were in the same high school though, just different years. Know him for ages and yeah, he was always this naggy and insufferable as he is now.”

“Joy,” Thomas chuckled at the description. Newt wasn’t a bad person; he was actually rather adorable sometimes, when he became unguarded. And if Thomas wanted to be a little selfish, he’d say he let his guard down more often now around him, showing him even his nicer side, and not just the bitter, sarcastic Newt he met the first day.

“Well, tough life,” Minho added with a worried undertone. “Missed lots of school because he was constantly ill, and you know how these things go.”

“Constantly ill?” Thomas frowned at it. “Like he barely passed a month without being sick or…?”

“More or less, yeah,” Minho nodded unhappily. “At school it was really fast, somebody coughed and he was absent the next day. Sucked.”

Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself not to think about it. He promised him he would get better, and that was definitely what was going to happen, even if he had to move to Newt’s place to watch over him 24/7.

“He’s going to get better,” he said resolutely and rose up the cup. “Thanks for the coffee, man.”

“Cheers,” Minho smiled and quickly reached under the counter to take out a box as if he expected Thomas to come. “Take this to the Grumpy. On the house.”

Thomas smirked and took it with a slight salute, and when he opened the lid once he left the shop, he barked out a laugh. It was a cake and on a top of it read: _Get better soon, asshat._

_I can feel the love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Get better soon, asshat <3


	8. Love a challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Newt,” he hissed. “If you don’t want me to stab you right in between your pretty eyes, you gotta stay still, capisce?”   
> “Oh so now I have pretty eyes?” It didn’t work, of course, Newt stopped laughing, yes, but only so he could smirk at him.  
> “That’s what you caught from what I told you?” Thomas groaned and loosened his grip. This kid was going to be and end of him, that for sure.  
> “Of course.”

“Can you relax your arm?”

“What do you mean relax my arm? You’re about to stab me!”

“Newt, I swear to God…”

The room was brightly lit, maybe a bit too much for Thomas’ taste, but everything was better than searching for veins like blind, especially when Newt decided not to go easy on him. He greeted him from the doors with _ah, torturer arrived_ and proceeded to make remarks about it all the way back to the living room, then while Thomas unpacked the needles and disinfection and even at the moment when Thomas ordered him to pump the arm a little so the veins would appear, and if that was supposed to make him nervous, it worked like a charm.

“You’re more fun when you get mad,” the blond grinned at him and it was apparent he felt much better, since the humour had been present in a massive degree. Thomas smacked his arm in reprimand, earning a laugh.

“How do you deal with the blood taking? Are you feeling faint or sick after?” he asked coldly to show him there should be at least a bit of seriousness present. It didn’t really work.

“Not really my favourite past time, but I’ll survive,” Newt shrugged easily. “You can hold my hand if you want to though.”

“If you had let Brenda here, I would, but like this my hands are a little busy,” Thomas made a face at him and for a while it looked like Newt really regretted not letting the nurse here instead, which made him laugh he almost knocked the prepared needled down the table.

“I just don’t like nurses,” Newt muttered and his arm finally relaxed enough for Thomas to examine it and find the vein. “Or doctors. I’ve had enough of them.”

“I get it,” Thomas chimed in while preparing for the act. “It’s fine. I can-,“

“Ouch!”

He stopped dead in tracks, eyes wide while searching for anything wrong he could have done, but when he found nothing – nor he even actually pierced the skin yet, he glared at Newt like a deadly laser and the blond burst in laughter he almost toppled himself backwards.

“You’re so e-easily spooked!” the blond hiccupped, literally giggling like a goddamn schoolgirl and Thomas had to take a deep, calming breath to stay on spot and not pounce him.

“I’m going to stab you, I swear I am,” he warned him sternly, but it didn’t help at all. Newt only started to laugh harder and Thomas groaned and put the needle down.

“You kinda gotta, if you want the blood,” Newt grinned and started wriggling again like he couldn’t stay still and Thomas seriously thought of bindings and a gag. He caught the blond by his arms and stilled him and it reminded him of his internship on a Paediatric clinic where they had this super scared kid, and when the doctor wanted to take his blood, he jerked away and the blood sprayed about everywhere. He never seen more traumatized child before, and quite frankly even after.

“Newt,” he hissed. “If you don’t want me to stab you right in between your pretty eyes, you gotta stay still, capisce?”

“Oh so now I have pretty eyes?” It didn’t work, of course, Newt stopped laughing, yes, but only so he could smirk at him.

“That’s what you caught from what I told you?” Thomas groaned and loosened his grip. This kid was going to be and end of him, that for sure.

“Of course.”     

“Unreal,” he sighed and reached for the needle again. “Come on, be a good boy and let me finish this. I’m starting to get impatient.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Newt offered his arm again, this time without any unnecessary delays, and Thomas eyed him suspiciously for a moment before he was sure he could proceed without another mischievous attempt to throw him off balance.

“All good?” he asked once he started to draw blood and heard Newt hum quietly, which made him glance up to seem him looking away, gnawing on his lower lip.

“Not a fan of this, are you,” he decided to keep banter rather than the silence and Newt cleared his throat before speaking.

“Is anyone?”

“Well, there are some who likes to watch,” Thomas responded easily and changed the vacutainer for an empty one. “Cuz it’s fascinating.”

“I want to throw up when I watch,” Newt uttered. “Or faint.”

“Not good then,” Thomas nodded and reached for the last vacutainer to fill. He noticed Newt visibly paled and just hoped it didn’t mean anything drastic, only the nerves working overtime. He knew cases where people literally fainted the moment it was over, or just few minutes after as if they realized what just happened. But Newt said he was alright, so Thomas hoped it wasn’t just a pride talking, since he preferred to be prepared for such situations (especially with catching in time).

“Still alright?” he inquired gently when he filled the last one and slowly pulled the needle out, just to press a pad on the wound. “You’re pale.”

“Fine,” Newt responded weakly. “Just a little woozy.”

“Lie down.”

“I said I’m fine,” the blond protested, but Thomas was having none of it and pushed him to the lying position, earning a groan. He was white as a paper and his eyes were darker than normally and Thomas felt like he made a colossal mistake when he gave in and did it by himself instead of asking Brenda. She would know what to do, and probably even prevented Newt to feel sick.

“You were brave though, you earned a reward,” he tried to cheer him up and ran his fingers through the tousled blond hair. He usually used the gesture on small kids, but apparently it worked on the teen as well, especially when Newt hummed quietly at it and let out a small sigh like it really calmed him. “You think you’d be able to stay here alone for a bit, so I can deliver the samples to the hospital?”

“What?” Newt blinked owlishly at him and his hand immediately circled Thomas’ wrist as if to stop him from leaving. “You said there is a reward and now you want to leave?”

“The reward is on the kitchen counter,” Thomas chuckled. He didn’t tell him about the cake and Newt didn’t even ask when he brought it, so it still was more or less a surprise. Newt’s grip didn’t ease off though. “It’s from Minho, actually.”

“Then it’s not your reward,” the blond pouted, literally, and Thomas had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing. “Doesn’t count.”

“It so does, I brought it all the way from the coffee shop,” he opposed in amusement, but Newt shook his head. “Fine, fine. Should I get you something in the city then?”

“Nah.”

“Then what, you want a kiss for your heroic effort of not fainting?” he teased while making kissy noises, just to be stopped when Newt hummed again and tugged a little.

“That sounds reasonable,” the blond added with a shrug and Thomas snorted. Sometimes Newt was really a box full of surprised, that for sure. There were moments Thomas didn’t really know what to think of him – when he was sure he figured him out, Newt’s personality morphed again and he showed a side of him Thomas didn’t encounter until then, and it was kind of amazing. Like he had layers and layers which unlocked with mutual trust and understanding but also returned when a problem appeared as if in defence. But when he let Thomas closer it always felt like an accomplishment.

“If I knew you were so easily satisfied, I wouldn’t buy so many sweets,” he told him with a faked sigh of exasperation and Newt rolled his eyes. “Alright, will be back in an hour the latest I guess, be a good boy until then?”

The grip stayed.

“The reward,” Newt reminded him impatiently. “Or no promises.”

“Huh,” Thomas raised an eyebrow and stared for several seconds, how his thoughts were trying to reach his brain in a reasonable conclusion. Newt was watching him back and his expression stayed surprisingly neutral, no matter how Thomas expected him to say _haha, joking, go buy me something sweet instead!_ “You’re pretty demanding when you want to, hm?”

“I sure am,” Newt responded calmly enough for Thomas to believe it wasn’t anything he’d done for the first time. “So?”

“Who would have thought,” Thomas mumbled quietly and the indecisiveness was starting to strain him a bit. There was a hidden joke, he was sure of it. Something Newt was planning, this couldn’t be that easy, could it? Asking for a kiss – this guy? Not a chance. It was true he opened up a lot more since the beginning, but Thomas smelled a mischievous intent behind it and didn’t really know how to proceed so he wouldn’t end up victim again.

“I’m sure it’s not the last time I managed to surprise you,” Newt commented simply. “And you said it yourself – I’ve been a good boy.”

“Sort of, yes,” Thomas agreed with a suspicious stare. It wasn’t like he behaved _all_ the time, right? When Newt only returned the gaze, he tilted his head to the side, looked at his wrist which Newt still held, and then let out a sigh.

_If this is a joke again, I’m going to kick his shin._

He contemplated it a little, then finally leaned in and quickly pecked him on the forehead, then patted him gently.

“Good boy,” he cooed and when he sat back up, Newt was staring at him like he lost his mind, and Thomas couldn’t help but laugh. It was pretty stupid, wasn’t it?

“You serious?” the boy asked him incredulously. “That’s it?”

“You gotta unlock higher level of my friendship to get a proper kiss,” Thomas uttered and wriggled his hand. This time Newt’s grip eased off and he let him go. “Deal with it.”

“Is that so,” the blond retorted and Thomas quickly stood up and walked towards the counter so he could open the box with Minho’s cake to get himself busy somehow. It was thankfully still in one piece, even after his mid-run back to Newt’s place, so he put it on the table next to Newt’s seat and nodded towards it.

“Minho’s _get well soon_ gift,” he said simply. Newt still stared. “Bon appetite and I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Mhm.”

_He didn’t even look at it. That’s half of the joke._

“Be a good boy until then,” he added almost on automatic when he was grabbing his jacket and the box with vacutainers and needles, and Newt leered at him. There was something rascal in his eyes and Thomas half expected to come back into a half destroyed flat or maybe the cake stuffed in _his_ chair so he could sit right in it and giving Newt something to holler about.

“Well, I love a challenge,” the blond commented leisurely and Thomas was never out of that place faster than now.

 _He is_ so _planning something._

***

“Have you seen a ghost?”

“Eh,” ha waved his hand and dropped his precious cargo on Brenda’s desk. He could barely catch his breath with the pace he adopted to get here fast enough, and he wasn’t even sure why he acted like a devil was chasing him.

_Too many thoughts, I guess._

 “The samples. You take care of it? For testing,” he pointed at the box and she glanced at it curiously before realizing what it was.

“Your boyfriend’s?” she grinned at him happily and Thomas grumbled.

“Pretty please. It took all my patience to get these,” he mumbled and looked at the clock hanging on the wall behind Brenda. “And I gotta get back soon as well.”

“You sound so serious,” she pointed out in amusement. “If it went badly, you should have called me. You know I’d do it.”

“I know,” he nodded. “But he refused.”

“What a precious boy.”

“You tell me,” he shook his head. “I’m expecting something nasty when I get back. He had that look…”

“What look?” she tilted her head to the side in curiosity and he only made a vague hand gesture.

“Like he wants to feast on my blood, that look,” he described it as vicious as he expected it to be and Brenda raised an eyebrow.

“He’s 17.”

“He’s _evil_ ,” he assured her. “ _Evil_ I say.”

“You mean a _teenager_ ,” suddenly Winston’s voice popped up out of nowhere and when Thomas turned around, the swarthy man was grinning at him like he just won a lottery price.

Well, he sort of did, since Thomas took _his_ job.

_I should learn how to say no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Gotta love kids ;)


	9. Overreacting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a good friend,” Thomas smiled at him slightly, as much as his mood allowed. “He trusts you, that’s good. Too bad he doesn’t really trust me yet.”  
> “Eh,” the dark haired boy waved his hand. “Just nope.”  
> “Huh?”  
> “Nothing,” Minho leaned over the counter with an exasperated sigh. “Not going to get caught up in this shit storm, like nope.”

There was silence when he pressed the doorbell, and that silence stretched uncomfortably for too long. Thomas stared at the door as if he could change the state from closed to open, but nothing happened and the eerie quietness filled the hallway like deadly poison. Along with that a creeping fear slithered slowly into his body and mind and the longer he stood there, the more disastrous scenarios fuelled his imagination.

Newt didn’t open the door. Newt didn’t even get to the door. Newt probably laid there somewhere, maybe fainted and hit his head or lost consciousness altogether when feeling like a shit and Thomas had no idea what to do at that moment. The true, painful helplessness of the boy being there alone where he couldn’t help him because he didn’t have the key was making him almost physically sick.

He tried to call him – nothing. It dialled, it rang, but nobody picked up.

He tried to knock on the door again – no response. Ringing the doorbell resulted in the same thing. He walked away from the door, then back, his phone glued to his ear while trying to dial the number over and over again, but nothing but his anxiousness progressed.

“Shit,” he groaned and abandoned the door with quiet cursing. He took the stairs by three and almost killed himself when he tried to google locksmiths while climbing up, until he finally got home without breath.

Maybe he had something he would be able to pick the lock with by himself? Or maybe one of the neighbours had a spare key, because Sonja was a smart girl and knew her brother was a stubborn prick? He doubted he would be able to get the door open by sheer force and he didn’t want to call Sonja _yet_ to make her traumatized even more than he did already.

He went through all the drawers and cupboards, even searched the bathroom and hallway, but found nothing to be use in the particular situation, except of a hammer (nope), a pile of nails (not really) and about two screwdrivers (not as helpful as they could have been). The frightful helplessness was growing inside of him by each passing minute and opened drawer with nothing useful in it, and after a while he had to stop and take a deep breath to keep himself calm enough to think straight.

Why was he so stupid and let himself to be talked down for doing the test by himself? If he said no, if he actually stood his ground and refused Newt’s big puppy eyes, Brenda would be there, would take the samples and he would stay in the flat. If Newt really did lose his consciousness somewhere around the place – like in the bathroom or a hallway and fell and hit his head and… He took another deep breath and quickly shook the negativity off.

He had to learn how to say no, he had to be a little tougher on the guy. It was easy to give in and try to make him happy by stupid things, by letting him doing stuff his way, and this was the result that could seriously have tragic consequences – just because Thomas was too soft.

He picked his phone again to find the locksmith’s number and his hands were shaking. Hell, his whole body had been and he couldn’t stop. Since when he became so invested in that guy? Of course, the fear something could have happened to his patient was one thing – any caretaker would be freaked out – but this was more, stronger, and it gripped his insides in a cold, sharp hold, completely paralyzing him.

It was his duty to help him, but it also his personal wish to make him better, to let him be able to leave the house again and go sit outside without worrying about catching a simple cold and spending another period of time in hospital or his bed (or an armchair in his case). It was more to Thomas and this sudden frightening situation reduced his rational thinking into a pitiful state.

“Locksmith,” he repeated to himself and started scrolling again, forcing himself to calm down and failing miserably, and the numbers and letters on a site were jumping around in front of his eyes like restless devils. Then the screen disappeared and another picture made an entrance, and Thomas stared at it for several seconds before he realized somebody was calling him, and that somebody was named _Newt_ and the green symbol for picking up was mockingly blinking there like a warning light.

When this simple, yet vital information reached his brain, it was a question of a nanosecond for him to pick the call up with distressed calling of his patient name, just to be greeted with a long yawn.

“Dude, you called me like… twenty times,” Newt’s voice sounded sleepy and a little rough and Thomas felt the liberating relief from hearing him slowly morphing into anger. “Chill a little, would you?”

Newt was alright. Apparently nothing happened. _Chilling a little?_ Thomas felt like strangling him all of sudden for the trauma he went through this past hour.

“Get the door open,” Thomas gritted his teeth and snatched his keys from the kitchen counter where he threw them before. “I’m coming down.”

“Huh?” Newt sounded slightly confused, but Thomas didn’t care. He didn’t know if he wanted to hug him for being alright, or hit him for putting him through this without any serious reason. He heard the boy moving though, padding through the flat to the door and when Thomas reached the last two stairs before Newt’s floor, the entrance opened and revealed the blond boy with ruffled hair and sleepy eyes in it, with phone still at his ear while scratching his belly under the oversized t-shirt that showed one of his bare shoulders for how big it was.

There were earphones around his neck as well while he dragged the cable behind himself and the urge to at least slap him over his head grew a little stronger. He had been listening to music and fell asleep while knowing Thomas didn’t have the keys? That little _bugger_!

“I called you so many times because I thought something happened, you immense idiot,” he growled at the boy unhappily and pushed him back to the flat, noticing he was barefooted and made a dissatisfied noise at it. Newt went without a word, but his eyes were widening gradually with each step he took until he look almost frightened like a bunny caught in highlights.

Thomas decided _not_ to be swayed by it. That made them end up like this in the first place.

“Give me the key.”

“The key?” Newt repeated while stopping in the middle of the living room, staring at Thomas like he grew another head.

“The key!” Thomas’ patience ran dangerously thin. “From this goddamn place – do you have any freaking idea how _scared_ I was?!”

“I just fell asleep,” Newt uttered, his posture changing from caught back to annoyed. “Sue me.”

“Give me that fucking key,” Thomas opened his palm impatiently. “Right now.”

“I don’t have a spare one,” came a reply. “Sonja has the only spare from here.”

“Then give me the original one,” Thomas rolled his eyes. Newt wasn’t the only annoyed person here, that for sure. “Fucking hell, I still feel my heart beating like a freaking drum-.”

“I’m not giving you my only key!” Newt took a step back. “You bloody insane?”

“I’ll make a spare one, genius,” Thomas gave him an unimpressed look. “So _this_ won’t repeat again, for fuck’s sake.”

“Can you stop overreacting?” Newt barked at him and Thomas felt his expression hardening and red lights going off in his head. “Bloody mother hen.”

_Overreacting?!_

“I swear to god – one more word about _overreacting_ and I’m going to lose it,” he bit out warningly and Newt noticeably recoiled. “I took your blood, you were white as a fucking paper sheet and felt sick, and you think not being able to reach you an hour later wasn’t that big of a deal for me?”

“I just-,”

“I don’t care, Newt,” he stopped him angrily. It was probably stupid, to be so worked up about this when nothing really happened, but it built up in him like a lighting charge and now it wanted out and Thomas couldn’t stop it no matter how he tried. Not when he saw Newt’s attitude not even being remotely sorry for it. “I don’t care you fell asleep with headphones on, I was worried _sick_ that something happened – that you got hurt, you stupid pup, and when you tell me I overreact over it, it really makes me want to punch you.”

Nothing came.

Newt was staring at him without a single word and Thomas couldn’t tell what was going on in his head at all, his face was completely blank.

Several moments passed between them in complete silence and when Newt didn’t make a single move or said a word, Thomas opened his palm again.

“The key,” he repeated in a rough voice, feeling the anger still circle through him like a disease. Newt finally moved to the hallway and returned few seconds later with the required item, putting it to Thomas palm quietly. Then he padded back to the spot he stood before and waited.

Thomas felt like saying _thank you_ would be in order, but he couldn’t get it past his lips. He closed his hand around the key without a word and let the arm fell back.

“How do you feel?” he asked coldly. The blond had already a much healthier colour again, and his eyes were finally fully livid, but it didn’t need to mean he was feeling peachy. Thomas needed to make that key as soon as he could so he would prevent such situation to occur again, but the distaste of leaving him again was strong. Although for the moment staying here also made him revolt against it, like he needed to clear his head a little.

Newt only nodded, not even making a noise.

“I take that means alright,” he commented dryly.

Another nod.

“Fine,” Thomas sighed. “I’m going to get that key made. You stay here, be good. If anything, I’ll be on the phone.”

He turned around, then stopped midway and glanced back at the stiff form of his patient.

“Don’t scare me like that and then dismiss it like it wasn’t important ever again, are we clear?” he eyed him warily and Newt avoided his eyes. Then nodded again.

Thomas took it as an agreement. If Newt wanted to sulk, he didn’t care. The weird, nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach stayed through the whole thing and Thomas was sure he was not getting rid of it anytime soon either.

If it made Newt at least feel a bit of a remorse, it was a good thing.

***

“Can you make me something sweet?”

He didn’t even finish the sentence and Minho was handing him a cup with whipped cream and caramel on top. He looked a little grim, but not like he was angry at Thomas or anything. The shop was half full and calm and Thomas thought it was because it was heavily raining outside and nobody really wanted to run in it either in or out.

Not even Thomas, if he was in a normal state of mind, but he still went from the shop here in the rain, without an umbrella, because he couldn’t face Newt without snapping at him – and quite frankly he didn’t want that. He thought that over on the way and understood the boy wasn’t at fault as much.

He was tired, he fell asleep, he was sick – understandable. It wasn’t as much of an issue. But the fact he decided to dismiss Thomas’ worry as _overreacting_ while giving him that annoyed look of his – that made Thomas so mad. Childishly even, he knew. It was more of Thomas’ personality and his current state of mind that made him so easily pissy, and he was really terrified of the fact Newt could have been hurt and he couldn’t get to him – but Newt didn’t know that and to him it probably seemed like Thomas was hysterical. He must have been used to people fussing about him all his life, so no wonder it mostly annoyed him, and yet Thomas just couldn’t push it off his mind and act like nothing happened.

He was bitter about it. Bitter, angry and little disappointed too, but also regretted how he lashed out at him, and it all mingled in him like an unhealthy mix, successfully preventing him from being able to act _normal_. No, he pretty much knew he couldn’t joke with the boy, and he couldn’t smile like it was fine again. He was going to be unpleasant and snappy and that’s why he tried to prolong it here, in the café, because Newt didn’t deserve it.

“You still kinda look angry,” Minho remarked from the counter, eying him warily.

“He texted you about it?”

Of course he did. Thomas didn’t know it if should have made him angrier or not. He was pretty sure he got depicted like an annoying worrywart and that kind of explained Minho’s expression when he came in.

“He feels bad,” Minho gave out a tiny shrug, surprising him a little. “But he should from what I gathered.”

“I don’t know,” Thomas mumbled and sipped his drink. It was sweet, tasted bit of a cinnamon, and calmed him down a little. “Maybe I was too mean to him.”

“Maybe,” Minho shrugged again. “Can’t tell.”

“You’re a good friend,” Thomas smiled at him slightly, as much as his mood allowed. “He trusts you, that’s good. Too bad he doesn’t really trust me yet.”

“Eh,” the dark haired boy waved his hand. “Just nope.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” Minho leaned over the counter with an exasperated sigh. “Not going to get caught up in this shit storm, like nope.”

“What are you talking about?” Thomas raised an eyebrow and Minho only shook his head.

“ ’said nothing.”

He looked so dismissive that Thomas decided to leave it be as well. He didn’t have the strength to deal with another issue anyway, whatever it was. He looked at the clock, noting he had been gone for two hours already, and grumbled quietly.

It was stupid of him to stay here stubbornly just because facing the consequences deemed unpleasant. If Newt felt bad for it, it really didn’t help that Thomas was out for so long, probably making him think he was too mad to face him.

Which he probably was, at first. Now it was just the echo, and his own bitterness he had to deal with. Maybe it was even worse than Thomas being angry, really, because he would even slap himself for it sometimes.

He looked outside at the heavy rain falling from the dark sky and then at the pastries showed behind the glass, spotting the blueberry pie.

He was going to be a dick, but he could at least lessen the impact of it.

“Say, Minho. You have an umbrella to spare?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> The constant rain in here makes me want to write rainy things xD Also sorry for delay ^^'


	10. Storm Approaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just want you to understand I was worried,” he continued a little more insistently. Newt kept on blankly watching him. “You understand that, right?”  
> “Why?” he finally talked, his voice rough, and Thomas blinked in confusion.   
> “Why?” he repeated the question. Why wanted him to understand? Wasn’t it obvious?  
> “Why were you worried?” Newt asked, not moving an inch from his spot. Thomas frowned a little – it seemed like the question was more than just a simple inquiry and he couldn’t decipher it.  
> “Because I care,” he decided to be honest. “Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

It felt like a week passed when Thomas was climbing the stairs up for the third time today. Like all his visits and departs were in spawn of several days and not only in a one short amount of hours between each and every turn of events.

He felt tired and a little cold with wet jacket and drenched shoes, and was grateful Minho actually had an umbrella for him so he was spared from the merciless raining that included a distant rumbling with the storm approaching. The sky was dark so it felt like it was already evening and Thomas kind of wished for a bed and warm blanket and few hours of peace and quiet. Instead of that he reached Newt’s flat and unlocked it with his new key to check if it really worked. When the lock clicked and opened the entrance, he let out a breath and hid the key in his pants in satisfaction.

The flat was filled with soft noise from TV, but dark and still otherwise. Thomas left the wet umbrella in the bathroom before walking into the living room with an unsure expression of what to expect. He got it sorted out, kind of, in his head, and hoped it also meant his attitude was going to be better than he feared it would, so when he searched the room for the blond boy, he really didn’t want to be mean to him anymore.

Newt wasn’t in the armchair though. He wasn’t on the couch and when Thomas took a while to scan the area, he realized he wasn’t _there_ at all.

“Newt?” he tried, the uneasiness returning. He wasn’t in the bathroom, since Thomas had been there, so that left only the bedroom – and Thomas knew the blond avoided it for some reason. But then again he also avoided sleeping alone and today he did without Thomas being there, so maybe he finally got rid of his unexplained fear of the last room as well and fell asleep in his bed?

 _Please be in the bed_ , he thought to himself. If he left the flat, Thomas was going to _kill him_ after all that happened today – and the talk they had. Surely the boy wouldn’t be so damn stupid to try to leave? After all Thomas told him? Or was it a wounded pride?

He stopped at the closed door leading to the bedroom and took a deep breath. He realized he never been in this room before, like it didn’t exist until know or fell into _off limits_ folder, so he never tried to check it out. Now, standing in front of it, there was a clawing fear in the pit of his stomach, like he offended Newt somehow and he simply decided he didn’t want to see Thomas’ face, so even this place wasn’t the one he stayed in.

He touched the handle and then finally pushed it open and peeked inside in ridiculous hope. The room was almost too sterile, white and with very little furniture. There were about two wardrobes and one table with PC on it, and on the opposite side of the door stood a neatly made bed.

Without Newt in it.

Thomas felt the swell of panic inside of his chest and for a while forgot how to breathe, until he glanced to the window and realized Newt was sitting on the wide windowsill and stared back at him in with a blank expression, and with a comforter draped over his shoulders. The sky outside got stormy and flashy and the window perfectly showed it like in a theatre, so Newt’s spot was actually a perfect viewpoint. Maybe that was why he chose it in the first place.

“Ah,” Thomas voiced out, feeling the relief calming him down again. God, he was going to have a heart attack before he would even reach thirty in this pace… “You’re here.”

A nod.

_Oh, so no talking policy from now on?_

“I got you a pie,” he tried to coax him a little and raised the box higher so Newt could see. The blond hummed and turned back to the window, not saying a single word. Thomas stared for a minute, not sure what to say or do, and when Newt remained quiet at his spot, he felt the crushing guilt smacking him over his head like a dead, smelly fish. He never felt so bad for snapping at somebody like he did now – it was like he completely sucked the joy out of the kid. He definitely didn’t mean to be so rough, for fuck’s sake.

He pressed his lips tight together and returned to the kitchen so he could drop the box on the counter and breathe out a little. Seriously, what was he supposed to do now? How to behave? Apologize or keep his distance? Wait for Newt to come out of his shell again?

_It sucks so fucking much._

He shed the wet jacket off his shoulders and put it in the bathroom to dry, almost on automatic. It seemed like he wasn’t even aware what he was doing how the jumbled thoughts kept occupying his brain, until he found himself back in the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe.

Newt seemed so small there, young and vulnerable and Thomas didn’t know what to do to make him feel better. He knew there was a reason why this happened, and he knew he should have kept the anger on for a while longer to show the boy there were borders, but seeing him this way was more of a punishment for him than for Newt.

“Newt,” he tried quietly. The blond glanced back at him, but didn’t say anything. “Look, I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m glad you actually sleep by yourself now.”

No reply.

“I just want you to understand I was worried,” he continued a little more insistently. Newt kept on blankly watching him. “You understand that, right?”

“Why?” he finally talked, his voice rough, and Thomas blinked in confusion.

“Why?” he repeated the question. Why wanted him to understand? Wasn’t it obvious?

“Why were you worried?” Newt asked, not moving an inch from his spot. Thomas frowned a little – it seemed like the question was more than just a simple inquiry and he couldn’t decipher it.

“Because I care,” he decided to be honest. “Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why?” again, this time a little louder, and Thomas didn’t know what else to say so it wouldn’t sound terribly cheesy. He cared about the boy because under the layers of sass and annoyance there was a sweet person who wanted somebody to be close and if there was a possibility for Thomas to be that somebody, he was definitely all for it. He cared because Newt needed help and he wanted him to be healthy and happy. He cared because nobody else did. He just cared.

“What do you mean _why_?” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re my patient, my responsibility. I care.”

“Your responsibility,” Newt repeated in a dull voice and Thomas felt like it was a bad thing to say, so he shook his head.

“Look, I’m bad at this,” he groaned. “It’s not just because I’m a caretaker, alright? I care because I can’t help it.”

Newt’s eyes were searching and Thomas couldn’t get rid of a feeling like he was just reading his mind like an open book. There was about three meters between then, but the look made the space smaller, closer, more intimate, and Thomas was a little afraid of the conclusion. Because there had to be one – there had to be something on Newt’s mind and he could almost see the wheels turning.

“Why?” the fateful question Thomas had no answer to. He could ask _why_ until the end of the world and Thomas still wouldn’t be able to give him a proper, satisfying answer. Because that was what Newt wanted, wasn’t it. Something meaningful, something final.

“I just cannot,” he shrugged, the nervousness gripping him. “From the first moment I met you I just wanted to help, and there is no reason for it that made me. You needed help, I wanted to give it to you. And now I want…”

“Yeah?”

There was strange gleam in Newt’s eyes and Thomas couldn’t name it. It was hopeful, maybe, or just expecting, he didn’t know. But he knew the words were rushing into his mouth like an avalanche and they probably didn’t even make sense.

“I just want you not to be mad at me,” he sighed tiredly. The day had been long and it wasn’t even half of it, but he felt like a week had passed and he didn’t sleep during it. “I want you to get better. I want us to communicate so these situations won’t occur anymore…”

Another nod.

“I want you to stop nodding and talk to me,” he pointed at the boy little selfishly. “It makes me feel like you don’t want to speak to me because I hurt you, and I didn’t want that, I swear.”

Newt seemed to be taken back, but then quickly shook his head as if he wanted to get rid of annoying thoughts. Thomas knew that feeling well.

“You didn’t,” the blond offered, his expression softening slightly. “Hurt me I mean. I was just… I didn’t want to make you madder by saying something stupid. Because I do that, to defend myself, I guess.”

“Well…”

“I didn’t mean to tell you that you’re overreacting either,” Newt interrupted him quickly and the comforter fell off his shoulders how he sat straight up. “I get that I shouldn’t have fallen asleep there-,”

“No no, sleeping is good,” Thomas refused and took step closer to the window. He didn’t know if he was allowed, but the distance seemed a little maddening. “I wasn’t mad about that, I just didn’t know what happened and I swear I never felt so helpless in my entire life.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

The silence engulfed them like a heavy curtain and Thomas thought he would feel more relieved while talking it out than he really did. Yes, an amount of heavy weight lifted off his shoulders, but it wasn’t as significant and he didn’t know why. Like there was something there still, lingering in the air between them, like static.

“I see you decided to take a pity on your bedroom,” he pointed out with a small smile. “Though this room was like… cursed or something. With human sacrifices lying around.”

“It has the best view,” Newt chuckled and nodded towards the window. “I love storms.”

_So I wasn’t wrong._

“It’s almost gone though,” the blond commented unhappily. “I’ve counted to fifteen already between the thunder and the lightning.”

“It may be back during the night,” Thomas shrugged and when Newt only hummed in agreement, he turned back to the kitchen. “Want tea?”

“Yeah,” Newt replied quietly, but remained on the spot, so Thomas considered him moved onto another perch of his, instead of the armchair. Although that one would be really bad for sleeping, that for sure.

He quietly left the room and changed the channel on the TV along the way. There were news in it, showing something about a bank robbery in New York, and Thomas dismissed it completely while stopping at the counter and reaching for the kettle. Making a tea now felt like a reconciliation gesture, like a peace offering. It was a little funny to think of it that way, but when Thomas took out Newt’s favourite mug, he really felt like it was different from any other time he did this.

He wondered if it really helped them, somehow, this talk. If they understood each other better, or if the words just hung in the air between them, not having an impact. Because he wanted it to change something, but he wasn’t sure what exactly. More trust, probably. More openness, less annoyed looks and nasty remarks. More… _something_ , Thomas thought.

 _Something_ _I can’t name._

He sat into his armchair with a relieved sigh and left the kettle to boil. His body immediately changed into a sack of potatoes, heavy and boneless. Today sucked his energy out more than a hectic night in the hospital and that was saying something. He took a deep breath and let his head fall back so he could close his eyes for a moment and relax. The TV noise was washing over him in waves, successfully lulling him to sleep, until he heard the kettle go off and before he could force himself to rouse back to fully awake state, he heard the water running. When he opened his eyes, Newt was standing at the counter in his oversized shirt and pants that reached to the half of his calves, barefooted (goddammit!), while watering his tea and then turning around to look at Thomas’ sprawled form.

He didn’t say anything, but approached leisurely and put his mug on the table with a soft click, before turning back to Thomas. He kept on watching him like he was waiting for something, and Thomas tilted his head to the side in a silent question.

“Hm?” he managed to voice out and Newt’s eyes skimmed sideways, then back to him.

“I’m cold,” he said then as if it was the most explaining reason from all, and when Thomas wanted to reprimand him for walking around barefooted and in fact very lightly clothed, Newt moved again and before Thomas could really comprehend what was going on, he had this lanky blond nothing on his lap, searching for the best position for his rest.

“Ow, what?” he hissed at the intrusion and grumbled until Newt finally found the right place and there was nothing else than a heavy weight and warmth engulfing him. “If you didn’t notice, I’m _not_ your armchair, pup.”

“If you didn’t notice, body heat is the best source of warmth,” Newt responded in kind and his arms circled Thomas’ torso like a vine, before the boy rested his head on Thomas’ shoulder.

“If you didn’t notice this isn’t tundra where you need it to survive,” Thomas pointed out playfully, because really, it was a little funny? What was even Newt thinking, he had no idea. But quite frankly he didn’t mind the proximity at all and when the blond let out a content sigh, he sneaked a hand around his back to support him and rested the other hand on the boy’s thigh.

“Shush,” Newt mumbled into his shoulder. “You don’t mind.”

“Not really.”

“So it’s okay.

“I guess.”

Newt chuckled and Thomas couldn’t help but smile. _This_ was the something, he mused while lazily caressing Newt’s back with his hand. _This_ and sleep that approached in a lightning speed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Cuddles. Aaaaaaaaaaaall the cuddles.


	11. Doing Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, big guy,” Thomas smiled at him, noting how the blond was pale and his eyes were hazed. He was going to need a lot of sleep after, that for sure. “How are you?”  
> “Feeling like a shit,” of course Newt didn’t pamper it and sent the doctor that was attending to him a glare. The man probably didn’t even notice. “I have a proposition for you.”  
> “Oh boy.”  
> “You need to go to study, so you become a doctor,” Newt found his hand and squeezed it. “So I don’t need to deal with geezers like him.”

“There is some progress in the immunity strength.”

Thomas felt the relief washing over him when Brenda handed him the results of Newt’s blood tests, and even thought the numbers weren’t really something he would be a specialist for to say if it indeed was better or worse, he at least knew it wasn’t _bad_ , since he had awareness of the highest and the lowest amount.

“They keep the immunoglobulin application ongoing though,” Brenda added and Thomas hummed in agreement. It was a reason why he was in the hospital anyway – along with Newt who had to go through the application as scheduled. At least the weather was nice and Newt felt fine in the morning, so Thomas could rest easy. The whole week had been moderately alright, no vicious coughing, almost no fevers whatsoever, and for a stranger Newt would probably appear healthy. Yes, there still was the usual fatigue that crept on him in mornings, and then in the evenings, and nausea that hit him at some point as well, but he usually slept it off and it was mostly fine.

“How are you holding up?” Brenda suddenly asked and it took him a moment before he realized it wasn’t connected to his patient condition, but himself. He gave her a look, trying to figure out what she meant, until it hit him.

“You mean the break up?” he guessed and she nodded quietly.

There was a good thing of being in a constant vicinity of somebody else, working – he forgot about most of the stuff that kept on pestering him. The issue with Teresa – and the silence they both kept – wasn’t such a huge deal anymore when he kept himself occupied. And Newt had been a full time job, so Thomas seriously didn’t have a single moment to weep about his inability to keep a functioning relationship while maintaining a proper money income.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged like it was no big deal – and it kind of felt like it wasn’t anymore. He still felt bitter when seeing her photo on his phone or in the flat (he was too lazy to actually do something about it, so his phone still had their photo on a locked screen and his flat her photos on the wall), but instead of taking it off he just passed it and the negativity went away soon after.

“Yeah?” she raised an eyebrow, apparently not really believing him.

“I’m too busy to overthink it, I guess,” he gave her the best excuse he could. “Always something going on.”

“Oh yes, with your blond boyfriend,” she teased him slyly and not even the glare he sent her made her stop with the leering. He probably understood why she teased him about it – all he talked about was Newt anyway. But it was also because he was all Thomas had been taking care of these past few weeks, so it was expected, right?

“He’s cute tho,” she grinned at him happily. “Little too thin, you should stuff him with more food.”

“He eats like a horse,” Thomas commented, because really, when Newt felt alright and nothing bothered him, he ate so much Thomas couldn’t believe it could fit inside of that small, lanky body. Although it was true he wasn’t exactly a light weight either – especially when he decided his armchair wasn’t good enough and Thomas’ lap served him as a better cushion. Since the first time a week ago when he basically fell asleep while curled on top of Thomas he turned it into a habit of some sort. When Thomas sat down after doing everything he had wanted to – and that usually took lots of time during which Newt watched him with furrowed brows like he wished him to do it faster – Newt was there in few seconds like an overexcited puppy and demanded a cuddle.

Like that. _A cuddle_. His own words.

The thing was – Thomas didn’t mind him doing that. It usually meant Newt was ready to fall asleep and that always provided better outcome than him forcing to stay awake to make himself more miserable and tired. At the end of the week of this going on Thomas also caught himself expecting it, or better, waiting for it, like a ritual. Sometimes he even fussed around the flat for a tad longer just to rile Newt up and it usually worked, since the blond always watched him from the place he was at that point like Thomas murdered somebody.

And, quite frankly, it was also… pleasant. Probably slightly weird as well, to have almost a grown up on his lap like they did it on daily basis – and well, they did, actually – but Thomas usually considered this kind of proximity for relationship goals. Which was funny, because when he dated Teresa, they rarely did this – of course, the hand holding and hugs and spooning when in bed, but otherwise the touches weren’t as frequent. When they found themselves at home, watched TV or something uneventful, they both were on their own spot, usually even on a different furniture – Teresa on a couch and Thomas on the armchair or vice versa.

So the fact he did it with Newt had been rather strange and if he told Brenda about it, or basically anyone else, they would definitely thought of it more than it really was. He believed the boy was actually starved for touch, at least a little, since he apparently spent most of his life closed up at home or in a hospital. Or maybe just for somebody to talk to regularly, except of his sister.

“He doesn’t look like it,” Brenda returned him back to present and pointed at the end of the hallway. “It should be in progress in there, but I think they are close to finish. If you want to stop by?”

“Yeah,” he nodded gratefully. It wasn’t like Newt wouldn’t be able to hold his own there, but Thomas still felt better when he knew if the boy was fine and not throwing up there or anything. Brenda led the way and handed him a mask in meantime, which reminded him a lot of his normal work shifts he rarely had lately. Always keeping the attire up, with lots of stress pounding through him, but also relief when the patient they had made it.

He followed Brenda through the door and beeping of machines immediately filled his ears. Newt was lying on the bed further in the room and if he didn’t see him only with one tube leading to his arm, he would probably panic a little. There was one doctor with him and he glanced at them only momentarily before returning to his job, not uttering a single word.

“Tommy!” Newt’s voice flew towards them, but it was weaker than Thomas was used to and he didn’t like it. Of course it had to be expected after the application, but it didn’t mean it was alright.

“Tommy, huh?” Brenda nudged him with a smirk, but Thomas only shrugged her off and stopped at the bed where Newt immediately made a grabby hand at him, until Thomas complied and offered a comforting touch. Brenda stopped next to him and the blond eyed her suspiciously for a while, before focusing back at Thomas.

“Hey, big guy,” Thomas smiled at him, noting how the blond was pale and his eyes were hazed. He was going to need a lot of sleep after, that for sure. “How are you?”

“Feeling like a shit,” of course Newt didn’t pamper it and sent the doctor that was attending to him a glare. The man probably didn’t even notice. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh boy.”

“You need to go to study, so you become a doctor,” Newt found his hand and squeezed it. “So I don’t need to deal with geezers like him.”

The doctor glanced at Thomas with a slight frown and the brunet cringed. He knew him from here, although he never personally worked with him, but he was pretty sure this guy knew who Thomas had been, if only vaguely.

Talk about awkward.

“Sorry,” he offered to him apologetically and the doctor didn’t say a word, but definitely looked more guarded than before, and Thomas was sure any other future meeting would mean this look would return.

“I want to go home,” Newt pulled at his hand insistently and he reminded him so much of a kid it wasn’t even funny. “Also kinda want to throw up.”

“Uh oh.”

***

“You sure you don’t want to stop at the restroom somewhere?”

“I told you I’m sure,” Newt grumbled from his curled up position on the backseat and sounded pissy. He threw up about three times before they even left the hospital and then one more when they reached the car (thankfully outside of it). It was normal, at least the grumpy doctor said so (Janson, if he remembered correctly), and Thomas managed to stop Newt from flipping him off on their leave.

_“Normal my ass! I’ll threw all over his fucking shoes next time-,”_

_“Yes, yes, now come on, let’s get you home.”_

He was only glad it wasn’t far from the hospital to the flat, and even though getting the blond up the stairs was an ordeal, he managed to get him inside of his home and to the bathroom as he requested.

“I can do this alone, thank you very much,” Newt closed the bathroom door in front of Thomas’ face and Thomas decided to leave him be. He knew the sickness made him pissy, or any pain, so this was almost like returning to the first moment they met, with the cranky Newt trying to turn him off so Thomas would leave.

Although he probably didn’t want him to leave anymore. Although it was more of a wild guess than a fact.

He made tea and turned on TV to find something non-dramatic in it, and decided it wasn’t really time for food yet, since Newt didn’t look exactly hungry, no matter how empty his stomach must have been after. Not even Thomas felt like eating, and felt a fatigue getting to him as well. It wasn’t an ordeal to take care of the guy, but today had been an exception and the nerves were crowning it.

“What are you spacing out for?”

Thomas blinked in surprise, realizing he had been leaning against the kitchen counter and staring into nothingness for all this time, and quickly focused at Newt who just emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and different set of clothes. He looked even more tired than usual and Thomas wasn’t surprised when he wobbled to the armchair and almost collapsed there. It was a miracle he was able to bath by himself without falling asleep in the bathtub.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, watching the boy breathing heavily. “Wouldn’t bed be better?”

“I don’t care,” Newt uttered. “If it fits, I sits.”

“Very funny.”

“I try.”

Thomas shook his head and glanced at the closed doors to the bedroom with a sigh. In this state Newt really should have a proper rest, and not just one of his _naps_ where his whole body hated him after with the weird sleeping position the armchair offered.

“Let’s get you to the bed,” he walked towards the armchair, offering a hand. “You need a proper rest.”

“I appreciate your concern, mate, but I have no strength left,” Newt made a face at him and didn’t move an inch. “’Tis a good place as any.”

“Right,” Thomas rolled his eyes and before Newt could protest, he bent down and took him to his arms, bridal style, and carried him to the right destination with Newt squeaking in protest.

“Are you _manhandling_ me?” Newt gasped in shock and Thomas wasn’t sure if it was faked or he seriously couldn’t believe what was happening. Thomas didn’t care – Newt wasn’t the lightest, but he wasn’t as heavy either and carrying him that short distance really didn’t pose a problem, although it was a little ridiculous.

“Yes, princess, I am,” he answered with a smirk and Newt groaned, but put his hands around Thomas’ neck anyway like he was afraid he would fall otherwise.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he heard him mumbling to his shoulder. “I’m at my limit already, I swear I can’t fucking take it.”

“Huh?” Thomas raised an eyebrow. “You need to throw up again or something? I will get you a bucket-,”

“No, you wallyjerk,” Newt hissed. “You’re unreal.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Thomas rolled his eyes. He must have been so tired his brain decided to spout nonsense, and Thomas wasn’t as surprised. When he was sleepy, he forbade himself to answer any text or mail, because it _never_ made any sense.

Newt didn’t react and Thomas thought he fell asleep for a while, before he finally reached the bed and attempted to put him there without waking him up. It mostly went alright until he wanted to get back up and realized Newt had been holding him like a vice around his shoulders.

“Newt,” he whispered while tugging a little. “You gotta let me go.”

The grip eased off slightly but not entirely.

“Newt.”

“How am I doing?”

“Huh?” Thomas stopped in his attempt to free himself at the weak question. “Well, good. The results seemed to show an improvement, so you’re doing well.”

“I mean,” the voice grew a little stronger and Thomas managed to pull far enough to see the blond’s face. His eyes were half lidded, but he seemed fully focused at Thomas. “How am I doing… with you?”

“With me?” he repeated in confusion. “Good?”

“How good?” another strange question. “Have I unlocked the higher level of your friendship yet?”

Thomas barked out a laugh and ruffled Newt’s hair gently. This guy was kind of adorable sometimes, he had to admit.

“Sure you did, boyo,” he agreed with a smile and Newt’s grip tightened again, bringing them closer together.

“Okay,” came a whisper. “Because I really can’t wait much longer.”

“For?” Thomas raised an eyebrow, but before any other answer sounded, Newt pulled again and pressed his lips against Thomas’ in a chaste kiss. It was short and seemingly nothing worthwhile, almost like a peck you get from a kid when it’s going to school in the morning, but it short-circuited Thomas’ brain anyway, so he could only stare into the dark pits of Newt’s eyes in a silent shock, bent over him like a cradle robber while his arms threatened him to give up the support soon.

“Get on with the program, Tommy,” he heard his patient saying and the grip finally eased off completely. “There is a limit to how slow a person can be.”

Thomas hit that limit so hard it probably caused a concussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Dun dun duuuun.


	12. Running Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That sucks,” Brenda replied with a sigh. “Don’t even think about getting close to your boyfriend with it.”  
> “Yes, I’m completely stupid and don’t know what weak immunity means,” he growled at her and it even fuelled the fact she called him boyfriend again. It threw a dangerous clarity over the whole thing if Brenda saw it and Thomas didn’t, that for sure.  
> “No, but you’re completely soft and would come running if he whined a little,” she shot back sternly and Thomas almost choked on it. Fine, yes, okay already, he was too soft on the guy. And yes, he was there for him every time Newt asked. But it was his goddamn job!  
> And no hardship anyway.

There was something about horses in the TV, running in the wilderness, and Thomas felt like he more saw _through_ the TV than actually paid attention to what was on (well, the horses, but… yeah). His insides were churning and head kept replaying Newt’s words _and_ the action over and over and over again. There was an itch in his whole body to run away, to leave the responsibility – and the consequences with it – behind him, to bury himself at work instead, and he unhappily realized that was what he had always done where there were troubles ahead. Work, forget about it, and wait for it to disappear.

It was also a reason why his relationship ended how it did. Not only because he didn’t make more time for Teresa, but also because he refused to deal with it, or any other problem that wasn’t imminent or life threatening. He just said he was busy. And he made himself busy for long, because it was so easy with his job – just switch shifts, stay long, help somebody out.

But here? He couldn’t run away here. _This_ was work. Not something he could escape from, because it was his responsibility to stay, especially now, when Newt was after a treatment, feeling weak and sick.

Well, not sick enough apparently…

So all of those things – all the _cuddles_ and touches and reward demands – they weren’t because Newt was starved for touch, but because he actually fancied Thomas as a love interest? How could he _not_ see that? Or more importantly – what was he going to do about it now?

“This is going to end bad…” he mumbled to himself and curled on the armchair. He could almost feel the chilling awkwardness coming to him in advance.

***

It wasn’t the fear of awkwardness, it was a fever. Two hours later he felt shivers down his spine and his skin burning, and when he used the thermometer, he realized he had been sporting a 38 degrees fever and his throat decided to punish him for his past sinful deeds of saying offensive things.

“Great,” he grumbled while he crawled out of the armchair, feeling like a new born lamb and started packing his things. So this whole shitstorm happened and the treatment went underway, and Thomas’ body decided it was time to say goodbye to everything and broke down with a cold.

Not that only leaving Newt without supervision was bad enough, but also leaving this whole situation that occurred with _sorry, sick, can’t deal with you now_ sounded like a bad joke. Well, yes, it also was a good escape route Thomas kind of craved for, but at the same time he knew it was going to look absolutely cowardly.

But then again he was a coward, so it served him right.

He stopped in the middle of the living room, looking everything over, and then shook his head. Should he leave a note before calling him? Who knew when Newt was going to be awake. He definitely had to call Brenda though, ask her to stop by here to check up on him, when Thomas couldn’t put him through the danger of being close right now.

She was going to jump in happiness, he could tell already.

In the end he left a note with _sick, will stay home for a few days, call me once you’re awake_ and probably never felt lamer for it.

***

“Sick?”

“Yeah, fever and sore throat, happy stuff,” he replied quietly. He started gradually losing his voice how the day progressed and no drops or pills really helped. Three more hours passed and Newt still didn’t call, but Thomas thought he was going to sleep for long, probably, so he still remained reasonably calm.

“That sucks,” Brenda replied with a sigh. “Don’t even think about getting close to your boyfriend with it.”

“Yes, I’m completely stupid and don’t know what _weak immunity_ means,” he growled at her and it even fuelled the fact she called him _boyfriend_ again. It threw a dangerous clarity over the whole thing if Brenda saw it and Thomas didn’t, that for sure.

“No, but you’re completely soft and would come running if he whined a little,” she shot back sternly and Thomas almost choked on it. Fine, yes, okay already, he was too soft on the guy. And yes, he was there for him every time Newt asked. But it was his goddamn job!

And no hardship anyway.

“I wouldn’t now,” he commented in defence. “I know it would only hurt him if I did.”

“Mhm,” she didn’t sound very convinced and Thomas wondered if he should have taken an offence in it. Everything he said lately she seemed like she didn’t really believe him.

“Which is why I need you to check up on him,” he resumed his initial focus of why he called her and she hummed. “He still sleeps, and he wasn’t feeling very good when we left, so I guess he will sleep for a tad longer.”

“I see.”

“Or if you’re busy and all, just send somebody else, like Winston,” he added lamely. “Although I’d prefer if you go, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Is he going to glare at me again?” she responded calmly.

“Glare?” he blinked in surprise and buried himself deeper under covers how the chills caught up with him once more. The fever refused to go down and he hated it, especially when he felt like he his absence was going to make the matters so much worse, so the guilt almost ate him alive.

“Oh yeah, like an overprotective puppy,” she confirmed it and Thomas couldn’t really recall anything like that. “Was waiting for him to bite me if I get any closer to you.”

“Oh please,” he grumbled. “You’re exaggerating.”

He would totally notice, wouldn’t he? Newt maybe got a little handsy with him here and there, but he definitely didn’t make a scene out in the open.

“Please don’t tell me you didn’t notice,” she sighed in exasperation. “How he looks at you?”

Thomas groaned and kind of wanted to end the call at the moment. So yeah, fine. He was blind, Brenda saw it, and it all sucked because what was he supposed to do? Newt was 17, a kid, and a boy on top of all that. Thomas was dysfunctional with relationships, he worked too much and the broke up with Teresa was still alive in his mind. It was a simple equation and yet Thomas didn’t know _how_ to solve it without destroying the fragile balance they maintained over the weeks.

If he turned him down right from the start, resolutely, it would definitely return them to the beginning with Newt closing up again. And it would make sense, since unrequired love sucked and why would Newt had to deal with that on top of everything he was going through?

But it’s not my fault if he fell in love with me either. Or… whatever he exactly meant by it.

And on the other hand – playing dead or just playing along while not really meaning it was probably even worse and Thomas would never forgive himself. So what was he supposed to do?

“So you did, good,” Brenda uttered dryly (no, he didn’t until today) and he heard her clicking a pen on her side of the line. “I’ll stop by at seven in the evening, my shifts ends there. You owe me though.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled tiredly. “Sorry to bother you with it, you’re a saint.”

“You bet I am,” he finally heard humour in her voice and it made him relax. “Checking on your lover-boy, I should get a medal.”

“Please stop talking.”

When she started to laugh, he hung up.

***

A sharp doorbell ring woke him up like a knife going through his brain, starting up about million anvils there in a never ending shriek. He felt hot and weak and barely comprehended what was going on, but his body moved on automatic and climbed out of the bed. Brenda must have arrived and he had to give her a key from Newt’s place, but hell, it was a terrible ordeal to actually _stand_ , not to mention _walk_.

 He padded through the room to the main door and felt cold and scorching at the same time, with his head being slightly woozy and sight hazed uncomfortably. He vaguely noticed it was raining outside again and it only added the sick effect to the whole atmosphere. He was glad he even aimed right for the handle and when he opened, it took him a minute to realize he wasn’t looking at Brenda as he expected to, but at Newt in his oversized t-shirt and pants, looking immensely pissed off.

“Oh no,” he let out with a slight groan, his head pounding. “Please tell me I’m hallucinating and you weren’t that stupid to actually come here when I specifically wrote to you I’m _sick_.”

“Oh, you mean that lame note you left on the coffee table?” Newt didn’t look impressed and only raised his hand with the paper in it. It was almost as bad as Newt’s own handwriting and Thomas barely decipher it – but then again, the letters seemed alive for how badly his eyes were watering, jumping around the paper like they played a tag.

“Yes, that _lame note I left on the coffee table_ ,” Thomas grumbled and took few steps back to increase the distance. “Now please, go back home. Brenda should stop by soon.”

“Your girlfriend already did stop by,” Newt glared at him and Thomas blinked in surprise. Was it already past seven? Why didn’t she call him? “Which is exactly why I am here. If you’re not able… or let’s say willing to do your job, don’t send other people, would you kindly?”

“She’s a nurse,” Thomas opposed tiredly and glanced at the clock next to the door. It showed past nine in the evening. “You need supervision. I can’t give it to you right now, since I feel like throwing up and fainting at the same time, so would you please stuff your attitude back where it belongs and just go with the flow?”

“I swear if you weren’t sick I’d punch you right in your face,” Newt bit out and threw the paper on the ground, where it fluttered crumpled like an abandoned feather. “You unbelievable massive jerk. I even called you like five times, for fuck’s sake.”

Thomas felt the tiredness making his legs weak and there was literally no fight left in his body. He didn’t even want to argue, not to mention not having the consciousness for it, and for a little, foolish moment he felt like reaching for the boy, pulling him close and hugging him to stop the situation from graduating further. That sole instinct took him aback and he had to take a deep breath to return into a normal phase of thinking before saying anything.

If Brenda could read his mind, she would definitely call him names for these thoughts. _Too soft indeed._

“Go home, Newt,” he whispered softly. “Please. I can be already bad for you as we speak.”

“Bad for me?” the blond repeated, apparently surprised by the turn of events - or maybe he expected Thomas to lash out, since he did look like he came in for a fight – and his expression changed slightly from angry to almost curious.

“Sick – weak immunity, you remember?” Thomas pointed at him and just to rise up his arm took lots of effort. “I’m a walking bacteria bearer right now.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Newt whined. “So, so, so bloody ridiculous.”

“Please.”

“Fine,” a growl, but it didn’t sound angry anymore, nor attacking. “But we are not done talking.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Thomas assured him with a weak smile and it seemed this simple gesture made Newt somehow more relaxed, since he fidgeted a little on the spot, then nodded as if more to himself than to Thomas and turned around to leave. There he stopped, glanced back and cleared his throat.

“So are we… good?” he asked, Thomas would say shyly even, and if he wasn’t so damn fever-induced, he would probably laugh a little.

Adorable.

“Of course,” he waved his hand. “Worrywart. Go get some rest and let me get mine, yeah?”

“Uhm.” A small, shy nod, and then Newt was retreating slowly, his shoulders tense, and Thomas found himself moving almost against his will, his hand reaching for the thin wrist and pulling the blond back. Newt let out a tiny squeak, but then he grew quiet again when Thomas’ arms circled around him in a tight hug and he pressed a little kiss on Newt’s forehead.

“Tommy?”

“I just want you to know I’m _not_ running away,” Thomas croaked how his voice was slowly disappearing. “Okay?”

There was a tight squeeze back and a nod he more felt than saw.

“Okay,” came a reply. “I take your word for it.”

Thomas was really an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I'm not sure if this make any sense xD But I hope it does :D


	13. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re slow,” came a rumble from the other side of the link. “I almost died of an old age.”  
> “I was waiting for you to give up and sleep,” Thomas uttered and his voice sounded like rough sandpaper, which apparently made Newt chuckle.   
> “Don’t think I’ll sleep anytime soon,” the blond said after and Thomas imagined him shrugging. He didn’t hear anything else – no TV, no music, so he wasn’t even sure where Newt resided in his non-sleeping state, but since it was raining, the windowsill in his bedroom seemed to be the right spot.

He wasn’t sure when exactly he woke up, but outside was dark and quiet and only rain was rhythmically drumming against the windowsills. Thomas felt the fever dropping slightly, but his throat was parched like a desert and it was exactly that what kicked him out of the sheets to get something to drink.

He had weird dreams, he thought when padding to the kitchen and putting water to kettle. In a first one there was Ava Paige – his boss from the hospital – asking him to make her a new cabinet for patient’s files and handed him several huge raw steaks from which she wanted the cabinet to be made. In the dream Thomas didn’t even find it weird.

The second revolved around Teresa. He dreamed about her packing her stuff, flaunting around and playing with her hair, and then telling him: _Since you’re gay, you don’t mind me moving in with Aris anyway._ He woke up with loud _who told you?!_ Before he realized it was just a dream.         

Which, of course, returned him to the problem number one – Newt. Well, it wasn’t exactly a problem per se, except it kind of was, since Thomas was falling deeper and deeper into denial. When he thought about it alone, he had an idea what he wanted to say, mostly. But when he saw Newt with his own eyes, within reach, his brain simply stopped working properly.

_Maybe it’s me who is starved for a touch. Not him._

He absentmindedly made himself a cup of tea and returned to the bed just to check his phone out of habit. There was a text waiting for him there, blinking ominously, and for a while he wondered if it was from Brenda, where she would tell him to stuff his patient where he wanted since he was pretty sure unpleasant towards her, or it was from Newt and at that point everything was possible.

He contemplated a bit, then opened it with a short sip of his tea, just to find out it was indeed Newt texting him. The lack of Brenda’s reaction was making him worried and he wondered if Newt didn’t lock her up somewhere as revenge. Although Brenda would probably be able to fight her way out anyway, that little karate kid.

**Newt – 01:22 –**

**How did you even get sick anyway?**

Thomas stared at the time of the text, then at the clock on his phone, just to realize it came only half an hour ago. So he wasn’t sleeping again? That little bugger.

**Thomas – 02:01 –**

**Go to sleep!**

**Newt – 02:03 –**

**Me? What about you? Aren’t you the sick one?**

**Thomas – 02:04 –**

**Look who is talking.**

**Newt – 02:06 –**

**Mhm. I slept the whole day though; I don’t feel like sleeping more.**

**Thomas – 02:08 –**

**It’s two in the morning >.>**

**Newt – 02:09 –**

**Same thing. Not to mention I’m bored.**

**Thomas – 02:12 –**

**So you should sleep. Entertain yourself with your dreams.**

**Newt – 02:15 –**

**Dull. Why don’t you sleep?**

Thomas sighed and reached for the thermometer to check the fever again. He felt almost fine, so he expected it only slightly raised, and even his mind was clearer and less exhausted.

**Thomas – 02:18 –**

**Just woke up. Checking the fever.**

**Newt – 02:19 –**

**And?**

Thomas waited for a beep and then frowned at the amount.

**Thomas – 02:23 –**

**38,2 :/**

**Newt – 02:25 –**

**Bleh. Can I call you?**

**Thomas – 02:28 –**

**No. Sleep.**

**Newt – 02:29 –**

**Just for a while.**

“Goddammit,” he grumbled while replying _fine_ like a complete idiot, and he almost heard Brenda laughing at him in the distance.

_He whistles and I come running, isn’t that ridiculous?_

He accepted the call after five seconds of the ringing and took a deep breath before speaking. It wasn’t like they quarrelled per se, but Thomas still felt a weird pressure in his belly, like in a strange anticipation. He just didn’t know of what.

“You’re slow,” came a rumble from the other side of the link. “I almost died of an old age.”

“I was waiting for you to give up and sleep,” Thomas uttered and his voice sounded like rough sandpaper, which apparently made Newt chuckle.

“Don’t think I’ll sleep anytime soon,” the blond said after and Thomas imagined him shrugging. He didn’t hear anything else – no TV, no music, so he wasn’t even sure where Newt resided in his non-sleeping state, but since it was raining, the windowsill in his bedroom seemed to be the right spot.

“I hope you weren’t mean to Brenda,” he breached a subject Newt probably didn’t want to hear of, judging from his heavy sigh. “Did she say anything?”

“Not really,” the blond said simply. “She rang the doorbell, I opened, she looked me over, said: _seems you’re still alive_ and left.”

“You kidding?” Thomas froze. Brenda wouldn’t do that, would she?

“Yes,” Newt mumbled. “Sadly she didn’t leave but forced her way in, brought pills from my favourite doctor Janson, checked my temperature, took a blood sample and said you’re probably dying upstairs so I should leave you alone if I don’t want to get any worse.”

“That sounds like Brenda,” Thomas let out a breath and relaxed again. “But you ignored her advice, apparently.”

“Well, I was pissed off you ditched me, so yes, I ignored her advice,” Newt’s voice didn’t sound as angry though, it was more like a simple statement. “You, conveniently getting sick after _that,_ what should have I thought?”

“Perfect timing, wasn’t it?” Thomas commented with a cringe.

“If you say so.”

_Yeah, it sucked._

“Look, I won’t lie to you,” he decided to spill the beans, although it weighted heavily on his tongue. “I was surprised, so my processing time is kinda long.”

“You mean you are still during that processing time?” Newt asked incredulously and if Thomas wanted to be completely honest, he still had been. It was like no answer was right, and no reaction fit, so he kept on thinking what to say until he usually fell asleep or his brain decided it was enough and threw something else into the mix (usually Teresa and her break up, _thank you, brain_ ).

“Yeah, kind of,” he admitted quietly.

“You’re seriously the slowest person I’ve ever met,” Newt groaned. “Fine. Let me spell it out for you-,”

“Don’t spell it out for me,” Thomas stopped him in a second and for a moment his heart picked up a serious speed he was afraid it would jump it out of his chest. “I get it, I do. It’s not that I don’t understand, yeah?”

“Apparently you do not,” Newt retorted with a sigh. “What’s so difficult about the options you have? Yes or no. Nothing else, it’s not a rocket science, mate.”

“It sorta is,” Thomas opposed.

“No, it’s not.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t know you actually have my brain and can decide stuff for me,” he barked out and Newt snorted.

“Smartass.”

“I’m sick, don’t expect anything heavy from me,” Thomas grumbled and dug deeper under the covers. “And I’m tired and feverish and cold.”

“Too bad, could have warmed you up,” Newt shot back and then started to laugh like crazy and Thomas mentally cursed that kid. If he had any idea how much struggle it gave Thomas to comprehend this whole situation, he wouldn’t have laughed so much. Because it was weird, yeah? The strange itch to touch even though his brain was telling him Newt was a no go. And yet his body did what it wanted to, and if Newt was here right now, personally present, Thomas would touch, would hold him close, because it felt right.

But then again – consequences, eh?

“Go to sleep, you creepy teenager succubus,” he uttered and flinched when the lightning lit up his room for a second, and a loud thunder accompanied it.

“Have you seen it?!” Newt was immediately livid. “So cool!”

“Yeah,” he yawned, his eyes slowly closing. “You in the bedroom?”

“Mhm.”

“Then get to the bed and watch from there.”

“To your bed?”

Thomas muffled his groan in the pillow and had an urge to throw the phone away, especially when another fit of laughter came from Newt’s side of the line as if he thought he was unbearably funny with those things, that damn brat.

“You set a foot in my bed and I’ll bite you, seriously,” he grumbled and it didn’t stop Newt even in the slightest

“Kinky,” he giggled and Thomas barked _good night!_ And hung up.

***

“I said no.”

“I don’t care.”

The heavy weight on top of him was maddening. He tried to move, but he it was impossible, like ton of bricks was resting on his chest and his legs. There was a tight grip on his wrists and Newt sat above him with a small smile. Thomas was mad at him for it, so damn mad. He was sick, he was a risk, and yet struggling seemed irrelevant and quite frankly unwanted and hell, Newt did it by himself, why would Thomas blame himself for it?

“You’re terrible,” he told him, but there wasn’t the proper anger present, nothing that would signalize he really meant it, and Newt was aware.

“You still love me anyway,” the blond teased him and his hands slid down from Thomas’ wrists to his to his forearms, ten moved to his waist where he stopped. “Right?”

“Hmmm,” Thomas hummed while he watched the boy carefully. “I don’t know, sometimes you’re really pissing me off.”

“No, I am not,” Newt protested and leaned down until their noses almost touched. “You think I’m adorable.”

“You’re pissy, annoying and jump into conclusions like a jealous wife,” Thomas commented in opposition and his eyes focused on Newt’s lips almost automatically, so he didn’t miss how the corners curled up in a small smile. “You can’t possibly think you’re adorable with such attitude.”

“Me?” Newt brushed their lips together and Thomas felt his heart pump faster. “Nah. But _you_ do.”

“I do,” he agreed quietly and gently pulled Newt down for the rest of the distance he kept. “You little devil.”

His phone went off and Thomas almost fell off the bed, disoriented and half asleep. The room was bright and the sun was shining behind the window, and he was alone in the room, and the bed. It took him about ten seconds before everything clicked together.

_What the hell!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Dreams will be dreams.


	14. Hang Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hi,” he let out lamely and his legs almost refused to carry him forward, so it must have looked comical. He noticed how Newt glanced at Minho with a weird expression before looking back into his cup and for a moment Thomas’ brain was urging him to change directions and flee. By a miracle he managed to reach the counter though and lean heavily against it as if he needed the support, and when Minho raised an eyebrow and looked him over, he got super sweet coffee in few minutes.  
> “Wanted black though,” he pointed out gratefully and Minho smirked. “But thanks, man.”  
> “No problem,” he shrugged and pointed at Newt. “He got black, so it would be lame if it was the same thing.”

“What’s wrong with you and your answering speed?”

Thomas groaned and fell back into the sheets with phone next to his ear, his head pounding painfully. What was wrong with him? He knew dreams when sick were usually kind of crazy, but this one reached another border – insane.

“Sorry,” he managed to reply to Brenda’s annoyed voice and could only guess what time it was and how many times she was trying to reach him.

“How do you feel?” she asked with a sigh and Thomas had to take a double take on his actual physical condition outside of his shaken mental state. He just dreamed about making out with Newt for fuck’s sake, it made scrambled eggs out of his brain.

“The fever is low,” he touched his forehead and didn’t get burned anymore. There was still the case of his sore throat and voice sounding like Al Pacino, but otherwise he felt like he could function. At least mechanically, that is.

“Cool,” she voiced out. “I’ll stop by with some stuff at your place before checking on that grumpy bear downstairs. He was pretty mad by the way.”

“I know,” Thomas uttered. “He… called.”

_Rather not tell her he was so stupid and came up to my flat._

“He went after you, didn’t he,” Brenda didn’t get herself fooled though and Thomas groaned. Worth a shot anyway. “Because I specifically told him not to.”

“He’s a stubborn kid,” he mumbled.

“Well, all I can hope for is that you didn’t French him into oblivion, cuz that would be difficult to explain,” she hit the bullseye like a professional marksman and Thomas almost choked. “I’ll get there at five. Seems his body is taking the application well, so there is a chance he would be able to go out sooner than you’ll get healthy.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, he made a brilliant progress during these past few weeks, thanks to you,” he could hear a smile in her voice and it made him calmer. He was glad Newt got better and apparently still progressed as he should, that was given. Only the fact Thomas couldn’t wrap his head around him made him slightly worried. “Will see how his tests will turn out at the end of the week, and if it’s good, he’s pretty much free to go outside. With care, of course.”

“That’s great,” he said. “I’m sure he gotta be fed up with being at home all the time.”

“Yeah,” Brenda agreed and then somebody called her in the distance and Thomas knew the conversation was over.

***

Thomas was bad at it. It was a ridiculous thing, dreams were just that – a fiction – but he couldn’t bring himself to leave it be. It was like his inner walls given out and it flooded his consciousness all at once, and as much as his brain was probably playing tricks on him, Thomas was suddenly too aware of the fact he actually _dreamed_ about going down on Newt.

Newt, his blond, sick patient. Newt, a 17 years old boy. Newt, a pissy, moody kid that had dirty mouth when he wanted to.

And also Newt, who was adorable and surprisingly shy and apparently… interested. And as much as Thomas knew it was a bad idea - because really, considering everything that happened lately in his own life and then adding Newt’s experience equalled into tragic consequences - he apparently wasn’t as oblivious as he thought either.

But yes, Thomas was bad at it, so the best solution to this kind of problem was wishing it away while playing dead. Or, well, sick in his case. When a text came, he replied late with something vague, and when there was an inquiry for a phone call, he refused with an excuse of not having a voice at all.

Which, well, he had, but it didn’t sound like him at all.

So yeah, he was avoiding it the best he could and while at it, the days passed until there was no fever anymore, no sore throat that would make him unable to talk and no _infectious_ status that would keep him locked up.

There was some sort of peace of mind though, or maybe reconciliation, he didn’t know, but when he left the check up in the hospital and got Brenda wink at him like she knew a nasty secret he didn’t, he didn’t stress himself with basically anything all the way back, until he was unlocking Newt’s flat with a careful knock on the door, just to realize shortly after the blond wasn’t at home.

“Oh,” he let out – and it was good, really, so Newt got a green pass to go out, it was great – but in the back of his mind there was some sort of nagging feeling like he missed it and like it or not it made him unreasonably bitter.

Not to mention the texts almost stopped coming as well, because why wouldn’t they when Thomas refused to answer them fast enough or at all to keep his head intact. So he basically had no idea _when_ Newt finally ended his home prison period and left the nest.

Not even Brenda told him, apparently because she expected him to communicate with his patient. Which he wanted to, really, just…

Thomas sighed and out of habit walked through the whole flat to see if anything changed. All the regular stuff was on its place and the bed in the bedroom had been ruffled, so Newt apparently finally abandoned his bad habit to sleep in the armchair. He watched the empty room for a moment, contemplating, and then took his phone and hovered above the text icon.

But what should he write to him?

_Hey, healthy again, lets meet up?_

That would be so corny.

_Hey, long time no see, want to hang out?_

Hang out? Geez, since when he became so bad at this? It was so easy and yet anything he tried to write came out wrong, or desperate, or just simply stupid.

_Hey, I miss you, can we…?_

No. Simply no.

He shook his head and hid his phone back into the pocket. Why his life was always lined with bad decisions?

***

It was a momentary decision when he was grocery shopping – like a blink that decided his next course of action – and before he knew it he was walking to the Minho’s coffee shop with a bag full of unnecessary things he couldn’t make a single lunch from, and with an order for the blackest coffee in the world on the tip of his tongue.

The thing was – he didn’t get to it, since right the moment he set foot in there, he realized that at the counter sat his blond nightmare, and everything inside of him stopped – his heart, the breath, his sanity. For a second he just stood there, unable to move, until Minho who was bent over the counter apparently in a deep conversation with his friend, looked up and spotted him.

 _Shit. I’m not ready_.

“Well, look who is back in the land of the living!” Minho hollered over the whole place and Thomas cringed when everybody turned to stare at him – along with Newt. He looked much healthier, with the right colour in his cheeks and blond hair tousled, but otherwise Thomas had almost trouble to recognize him. He was in a black leather jacket and super skinny black jeans ( _help_ ) and Thomas felt his denial punching him back with vengeance it almost knocked him out by the sheer ferocity of it. There was an apparent surprise in Newt’s face, but it morphed fast into careful neutrality Thomas saw on him few times already, when he became guarded and closed off.

 _No wonder_ , he thought bitterly _. Ignoring worked._

“Hi,” he let out lamely and his legs almost refused to carry him forward, so it must have looked comical. He noticed how Newt glanced at Minho with a weird expression before looking back into his cup and for a moment Thomas’ brain was urging him to change directions and flee. By a miracle he managed to reach the counter though and lean heavily against it as if he needed the support, and when Minho raised an eyebrow and looked him over, he got super sweet coffee in few minutes.

“Wanted black though,” he pointed out gratefully and Minho smirked. “But thanks, man.”

“No problem,” he shrugged and pointed at Newt. “He got black, so it would be lame if it was the same thing.”

“I see,” Thomas forced himself to finally look at Newt properly and caught him watching him as well. He couldn’t tell what the boy was thinking and it was making him uneasy. Was he angry? Disappointed?

Well, definitely not happy to see him, that for sure.

“Glad you got released,” he tried, his eyes searching the boy’s face for any sign of emotion. He found none. “Sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Got used to it,” Newt uttered and yeah, there it was, the passive aggressiveness Thomas kind of expected.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t waste your breath, mate,” Newt avoided his eyes and looked back into his cup. “I got the memo.”

“Well-,”

“Also good you’re healthy again,” Newt didn’t let him finish, but didn’t look at him either. He didn’t add anything else and Thomas felt the conversation ended before it actually started.

“Um. Thanks,” he mumbled anyway and it was so _bad_. There was a barrier he couldn’t breach, a wall that probably reached the sky between them and it was impossible to breach it, like a simple try would scorch him alive. “I’ve actually wanted to text you if you want to hang out-,” _oh god, did I really say that?_ “-but since you’re here…”

“I have plans,” Newt said coldly and glanced at him. An evident distaste was visible in that look and Thomas felt something inside of him crumble at it. The heavy weight in his belly multiplied and his throat almost closed off as if to prevent him from speaking.

“Okay,” he somehow got past his lips and his grip around the cup grew stronger to stop his hands from shaking.

_Leave. I gotta leave. I can’t._

“Jesus,” he heard Minho groan somewhere in the distance, but didn’t look at what. Maybe at the absurdity of this situation, Thomas wouldn’t even be surprised.

“Oh, also,” Newt’s voice again and Thomas wondered where he got the strength to look up again. Newt was facing him now, his face reasonably calm, but there was coldness in his eyes and Thomas felt chilled to the bone. “I’ve dealt with the hospital, so you don’t need to worry about it anymore. Concluded and all, thanks for the help.”

Sounded more like _fuck off, hope you die,_ but okay. Thomas nodded mutely.

“You did, after all, keep your end of the bargain,” the last nail in the coffin drove in. “Kudos for that, cheers.”

Another nod.

“Good job though,” Minho added to it, his voice strong. “You got nerves of steel you managed to put up with him for so long.”

“Oi.”

“I gotta go,” Thomas stood up abruptly and finally tore his eyes from Newt and to Minho. “Thanks for the coffee. And all.”

“Anytime,” Minho bowed his head a little, but his eyes were guarded.

Thomas wasn’t sure how he got out of the coffee shop, but when he found himself back in his flat, the dull, empty feeling inside of his stomach never felt so real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Had been asked for angst, so there is a bit of it :D  
> Also, the reference for Newt's clothes is from here: http://sangsterworld.tumblr.com/post/145128715927/thomas-in-london-with-friends :)


	15. Collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I see,” Newt responded quietly and let out a long breath. “Look. Sorry I snapped at you in the shop.”  
> “No worries,” Thomas shook his head.   
> “I was angry,” another thing.  
> “I get that,” Thomas assured him and Newt crossed his arms on his chest and stood a little more straight.  
> “I still am,” he elaborated as if it wasn’t obvious (it was, especially from his posture and his eyes and Thomas hated himself for being able to tell so easily).   
> “Yeah,” Thomas breathed out. “I get that too.”

Thomas still didn’t take down the photos with Teresa from the walls for several weeks already. He knew that. Yet every time he passed the place, he just couldn’t bear himself to do it. Now, standing in front of the collage of a chunk of his life consisting of several unforgettable moments, he wondered how exactly he was supposed to function, when he was not able to keep anyone happy.

Overthinking things, then making stupid decisions, and then ending up wondering _why_ exactly could he think it would be a good idea.

Why did he actually think not responding to Newt properly was the way to go? Was he trying to protect Newt or himself? Or was his head just so deep in the sand he couldn’t think straight anymore?

He gazed mutely at the photo of him and Teresa on the beach – her with an obnoxiously big straw hat and fly sunglasses, but looking breath taking as ever. Her long, black hair cascading over her bare shoulders and smile bright and happy, aimed at Thomas.

So why did he take that smile away?

He slowly took the photo off the wall and looked around. Yeah, that was probably right. He acted like he didn’t care with Newt because it would end up the same way as it did with Teresa. He would start working too much, Newt would mind, and in the end how else would it end? With another break up, another lost smile and another depression state for Thomas. Not to mention – he broke up with Teresa quite a short while ago, why would it be a good idea to start another relationship that was already doomed?

They were not even compatible with Newt. There were so many things the other minded Thomas couldn’t say anything more serious than occasional seeing each other seemed like an option. Not to mention Newt was just 17, at school, and with a wholesomely different set of hobbies and interests. And if it was too practical thinking – yes, Thomas knew, but he couldn’t help but analyse it this way nevertheless.

He put the photo on the kitchen counter and stared at it for several long, silent minutes. He understood what he did wrong with Teresa. And he understood what he did wrong with Newt, even though nothing was properly even happening. He got that, he really did. Yet if he rewound time, he had a feeling he would do the same stupid thing over and over again.

“It’s for the best,” he mumbled, tracing the photo with his fingers. “For both of you.”

***

He almost jumped out of his skin when the doorbell rang, slicing through his brain like hot knife, especially since he fell asleep on the couch in the living room where the bell resided just above the main door. It almost gave him a heart-attack and definitely at least one grey hair.

He wobbled to the main door in hazed state, his head hurt and he had a cramp in his left arm how he slept on it instead of a pillow, and opened while yawning, which probably must have looked weird to…

“Newt?” he blinked, for a while in impression he was still asleep, but when the blond boy didn’t disappear or do something purely dream-like, he concluded it was, in fact, the real deal, standing at his door with… a bag?

“Oh,” he immediately recognized what he was holding and the blond’s face said it all as well.

“Dunno what you are carrying in your head, but you left this in the shop,” Newt pushed the bag with groceries into Thomas’ arms. “Dumbo.”

“Sorry,” Thomas voiced out lamely and his hands felt cold, probably because of the ice cream he got in the shop, and which Minho apparently hid in the freezer until Newt left with it. Nice guy. “Thanks.”

Newt didn’t say anything, but looked him over like he was checking for something, then tilted his head to the side.

“I woke you up?” he inquired after and Thomas let out a tiny shrug. It was only luck he was still half asleep, so the sudden guiltiness didn’t faze him as much.

“No big deal,” he said simply. “Just dozed off on the sofa.”

“I see,” Newt responded quietly and let out a long breath. “Look. Sorry I snapped at you in the shop.”

“No worries,” Thomas shook his head.

“I was angry,” another thing.

“I get that,” Thomas assured him and Newt crossed his arms on his chest and stood a little more straight.

“I still am,” he elaborated as if it wasn’t obvious (it was, especially from his posture and his eyes and Thomas hated himself for being able to tell so easily).

“Yeah,” Thomas breathed out. “I get that too.”

“If you’d just…” Newt groaned and then shook his head. _Do something_ , Thomas filled the silence. _Act on it_ , he had another variation.

“I’m not going to,” he said gently. “And I’m sorry I didn’t give you a proper answer for so long.”

“You’re not going to,” Newt repeated, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah, it’s not-,”

“Worth it?” the blond cut his speech in half. “I am not worth it? That you mean?”

His voice trembled a little and Thomas felt the full awareness of the situation coming to him, the haziness of the sleep slipping away as if on the run. Thomas felt like the control was slowly disappearing and he felt the helplessness gripping him again.

“You’re definitely worth it,” he said hastily, his hands itching for a contact, but he forcefully balled them to fists to stop himself. “But I can’t-,”

“It’s not me, it’s you, seriously?” Newt interrupted him again with a sharp breath. “God, why am I always such an idiot…?”

“Listen!” Thomas snapped and Newt glared at him with a so much anger in his eyes it would probably kill a man if it was just a tad deadlier.

“No!” he barked back. “I’ve listened bloody enough to your excuses, for fuck’s sake! Can’t you say anything straight without need to justify yourself like a fucking coward every single time?!”

Thomas took a step back and no words actually came to him at that point.

“Fuck this,” with that Newt turned around and left Thomas standing there like a tit, and crowned it with a loud slam of the doors to his flat where probably everybody living in the house heard it.

Thomas felt like rooted to the spot how the words echoed inside of him with an eerie intensity. It wasn’t like Newt had been wrong. It wasn’t like Thomas didn’t try to run every time something bad happened.

But he would be lying if he said it didn’t pique him as well, and that weird, hurt feeling blossomed like a spiked flower inside of his chest. When he got back to the flat just to get the key from Newt’s place, he operated on pure sense of vindication that fuelled him, and it was stupid, but unstoppable.

He slammed his own door hard as well, and when he unlocked and entered Newt’s flat, he did it even there just because he could.  He wasn’t even surprised Newt was standing at the end of the hallway like he expected him, stance wide and unhappy expression on place.

“So what, you have more excuses for me?” he greeted him sharply and if Thomas had a concrete speech ready, it disappeared under the onslaught of feelings where most of the rationality vanished somewhere.

“You’re seriously the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” he bit out and Newt snorted. “Can you just stop thinking about yourself for a minute?”

“Well, that’s precious,” the blond uttered. “So now I’m a selfish prick?”

“You _are_ a selfish prick!” Thomas made a step back and Newt flinched, but stood his ground. “If you even remotely considered that maybe it’s not easy for me to jump into a new relationship after I broke up few weeks ago with my fucking long-term girlfriend, so I’m fucking sorry for not being overly happy about this goddamn issue!”

Newt visibly recoiled and his face went through several changes before he stopped at uncertainty. He dropped his arms along his body and Thomas almost saw the wheels in his head turning how he was analysing the situation carefully.

“You… broke up?” he repeated quietly. “You mean… the day when you didn’t come at all but arrived in the middle of the night…?”

“That’s beside the point,” Thomas grumbled. It felt much longer – like months or years since it happened and suddenly talking about it made only little sense. Even he didn’t really know why he mentioned it, although the dating part was definitely relevant. It was probably still annoyingly fresh after all.

“The thing is – you’re pushing it. And when I don’t know, because I don’t and it’s maddening, since I _know_ it’s a bad idea, I just do, but somehow still want to, it’s even worse and it’s making me pissy-,”

“You still want to?” Newt stopped him again and Thomas groaned. If course he had to take only what he wanted to hear and that wasn’t the point Thomas wanted to make here. He was trying to explain to him _why_ it was a _bad_ idea and somehow mend both of their attitudes to at least a friend’s level, but he felt like Newt grew stubborn again.

“ _Yes_ , genius, that’s fucking given,” he growled to get it out of the way – there was no point in lying to him. No point in lying to himself as well. “But I’m not going to, because-,”

“Because you’re a bloody idiot and think I’ll dump you like your girlfriend for whatever reason?” The habit of Newt interrupting him was definitely getting out of hand and Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Why was this kid so difficult?

“I work too much-,”

“Duh.”

“Stop interrupting me,” Thomas grumbled and suddenly Newt was smirking and it was even _worse_ , because he knew that expression and it meant war.

“Gotta work for that,” the blond shrugged. “I’m not silenced just by anything.”

“I can’t believe I’m even trying to _explain_ it to you,” Thomas whined pathetically and it apparently was funny to Newt, since he chuckled and took a step closer – at which Thomas took a careful step back.

“Seriously?” Newt tilted his head to the side and Thomas crossed his arms on his chest.

“I know that look, you’re up to something,” the caretaker defended himself unhappily.         

“Yeah, I’m up to something,” Newt responded easily and took another step forward – Thomas one step back, just to collide with the closed door with _oof_. It took Newt about two seconds before he was close, in Thomas’ personal space, and Thomas could feel his heart rabbiting in his ribcage like crazy while his breath shortened into quick doses, and Newt was there, right at him, watching him curiously, like he was noting each and every single thing about him.

“There is one thing,” he spoke up surprisingly softly after the shout fest they had, “about you. I wouldn’t even attempt this _again_ if I didn’t know you’re up for it, you get that, right, Tommy?”

“Do I look up for it?” Thomas barked back, but it had no bite.

“You’re confusing,” the blond mumbled. “For me. There are signs all over the place, you keep on doing them, but when I get too close, you panic and close off.”

“Because it’s a bad idea!”

Newt didn’t seem to care Thomas was so defensive, he held his ground stubbornly and Thomas felt his resolve crumbling. There was this touch deprivation thing that wasn’t really real, but it felt like he was going through it around this kid, and the closer Newt had been, the more Thomas wanted to pull him flat against his own body – and he wouldn’t want that if there was nothing, he knew.

“No, it’s not a bad idea,” Newt said calmly. Thomas wondered why he thought it was, now looking back at it, or maybe he just got pulled by the gravitation that surrounded them when too close, but looking at the blond now, open and honest; he wondered where exactly _he_ went wrong to complicate it needlessly.

“Look,” Newt spoke up again, searching his face, and his expression grew a little sad again. Thomas hated it. “I’m not going to push anymore, if it’s-mmphhh!”

Sometimes kisses were the best solution for fights after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Wham bam, thank you, m'am!


	16. Lame Arguments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why not?” Newt tilted his head to the side. “You’re nice, you care. I like your butt.”  
> “You like my butt.”  
> “Yeah, it’s a nice butt,” the blond shrugged. “Was the main factor in deciding if to pursue you or not.”  
> “My butt,” Thomas repeated with a raised eyebrow and when Newt grinned at him, Thomas kind of wanted to kiss that smile off to show him what he thought about it.

Thomas wasn’t entirely sure why he thought, after all the effort he put against it, that kissing Newt was a good idea. It was like throwing every argument he had out of the window and saying _yes_ to all he refused before _._ But as much as it could have been an issue, Thomas didn’t care – not at that moment, that for sure. His brain probably stopped working altogether.

Newt’s lips were pliant and soft and really insisting, that for several moments Thomas didn’t know who exactly lead the whole thing. It was like battling for it, but in a sweet, playful way, and when Newt pushed Thomas back to the door and his hands grabbed him by the edge of his shirt just to pull it up, Thomas decided it was time to show him what actually kissing somebody meant and grabbed him by his wrists to still him.

Newt made a curious noise in the back of his throat and his advances diminished slightly, which allowed Thomas to catch him by surprise with a soft nibble on his lower lip and then with a deep, toes curling kiss that made Newt moan into his mouth.

It was so easy to do this. So natural and pleasant it almost felt surreal to Thomas after the whole fight he put up against it. If he wasn’t so stubborn, he could have been doing this for weeks already – the gentle touches at the back of Newt’s neck where his hair tickled him, the addicting little noises Newt made at it, the heat of his body and curious hands mapping him.

“Stop thinking,” Newt suddenly pulled away an inch, his eyes blacker than normally, and Thomas realized he had been holding his face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones.

“I’m not thinking about anything bad,” he responded quietly, almost in a whisper, and Newt’s lips curled up in a smile. He alone had his hands on Thomas’ sides, gripping him there as if he was trying to prevent him from leaving.

“I never know with you,” Newt mumbled as in response. “You seem fine one moment. And the other you’re gone.”

“Am not,” Thomas protested softly. “Only when I sense danger.”

“There is no danger, dumbo,” Newt let out a sigh and his eyes dropped to Thomas lips, then quickly returned back up. It was probably a little funny how Newt took it all so easily and Thomas always overthought stuff, like two completely different forces colliding in a big bang. Even this sole thing was already some sort of danger for a possible relationship – the approaches and dealing with things in a completely different manner for both of them.

“There is a little danger,” he opposed lightly. The fight against giving in was still in him, raging quietly, but somehow it was impossible to subdue to it with Newt this close. He wondered if Newt was aware?

“If you’re going to start about this again, I’m going to bite you,” Newt warned him sternly and for a while Thomas actually believed he would do it. “All your arguments were stupid, and don’t even try to disagree.”

“Mean,” Thomas pointed out but didn’t really take an offence in it anymore. “I just wanted to be careful.”

“Yeah, fuck that,” Newt rolled his eyes. “Careful my ass. You live just once.”

“What big words for a seventeen years old brat,” he scraped his neck a little, earning a low hum for it. “I still don’t understand why me?”

Because it was a relevant question, wasn’t it? Of course, when Newt was locked up home, it was probably frustrating, but then again he definitely had more options, so why Thomas? He barged there without proper invitation after all, and sometimes was quite mean to the blond just to get his way.

“Why not?” Newt tilted his head to the side. “You’re nice, you care. I like your butt.”

“You like my butt.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice butt,” the blond shrugged. “Was the main factor in deciding if to pursue you or not.”

“My butt,” Thomas repeated with a raised eyebrow and when Newt grinned at him, Thomas kind of wanted to kiss that smile off to show him what he thought about it.

“Also a reason why I said you’re slow,” Newt continued lazily and leaned to Thomas with a content sigh. “Is that you’re so into it in default but unless somebody shows you, you keep ignoring this shite.”

“I knew about it,” Thomas opposed. He had that dream and all, it was hard to ignore it.

“Not until I kissed you first,” Newt protested. “You were so oblivious it wasn’t even funny. I just couldn’t tell for sure. You showed signs, but…”

“I’ve kind of had different thoughts at that point,” Thomas mumbled and leaned his head back until he hit the door. “Definitely didn’t want to even _think_ of anything remotely reminding of a relationship.”

He more felt than heard Newt to take a sharp breath and then the blond pulled away, his face uncertain.

“If I had known…” he started quietly. “You never mentioned.”

“Didn’t really have a reason to, did I?” Thomas shrugged and already missed the nice, welcoming warmth of Newt’s body, which was ridiculous. He really must have some issues, he never felt this with Teresa and he had been in love with her for _years_.

“I suppose,” Newt retorted, but the uncertainty in his face stayed. “So why did you… break up?”

Thomas groaned and then shook his head.

“We really having this conversation?” he sighed unhappily and Newt took a small step back, like he started to build up the wall between them again and Thomas didn’t like it.

“I just don’t want to do the same mistake,” the blond said simply, but he was guarded again, Thomas could feel it. “I’ve already made you admit it, I don’t want to fuck it up?”

“You?” Thomas barked a laugh. “It was _me_ who fucked it up, not her. I was home so rarely she started to mind. And even though I knew… I didn’t do anything about it.”

“That’s why one of your lousy arguments was _I work too much_?” Newt crossed his arms on his chest and Thomas rolled his eyes.

“It’s not _lousy_ ,” he opposed sternly. “It’s had been an issue and it can be an issue again-,”

“God, don’t start, just _don’t start_ ,” Newt whined, turned around and retreated to the living room. Thomas stared after him for several seconds before he let out a sigh and nodded to himself.

 _Fair enough, I guess_.

***

He found Newt at the kitchen counter, nibbling in a plate with half eaten food, but it was more like he only played with it than was interested in actually eating it. Thomas watched him quietly for a while and his lips slowly curled up in a smile, almost by themselves. Well fine, his previous relationship didn’t work, but who said this one wouldn’t either?

“What are you smiling for?” Newt’s voice brought him back to the reality and Thomas noticed he had been watching him in return, and the defensive mode was still on.

“I dunno,” Thomas shrugged and the smile didn’t disappear. “It’s just that we were barking at each other just few minutes ago.”

“Cuz you’re a tit,” Newt deadpanned and Thomas snorted.

“I am a tit?”

“I’m kinda a tit too,” the blond avoided his eyes and pushed the plate with food away. He sulked now, Thomas knew that expression, and found it even more adorable than before, like his brain decided to multiply it for him.

“Hmm.”

“But you kissed me,” Newt suddenly pointed out and focused back on Thomas. “So no take backs!”

“No takebacks,” Thomas agreed with a chuckle and it seemed like it worked, since Newt’s face cleared and the barrier he had dissipated.

“Okay,” the blond nodded and took several steps closer, until he was in Thomas’ personal space again. He seemed to hesitate a bit, but then put his hands on Thomas’ shoulders and let out a long breath.

“Nervous?” Thomas asked in amusement. He wouldn’t expect Newt to show this kind of emotion, he seemed rather confident in the pursuing. And suddenly he looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself and it was endearing.

“I might be,” Newt admitted quietly and his fingers danced over Thomas’ shoulders in a curious manner. “I kept on thinking about this and now I have you and… I don’t want to mess it up?”

“You’re not going to mess it up,” Thomas smiled and it was kind of relieving, really, because he alone wasn’t sure how to approach this matter without sounding like a complete creep, or without freaking himself out. He dated before, he did about everything that consisted of a relationship, but never with a boy – and as much as it didn’t look like it would be much different, considering Newt as the same case as Teresa was impossible.

The fingers stopped and then moved to Thomas’ neck, gently touching him there, then traveling to the back of it, and to his hair. The contact was pleasant and Thomas felt shivers down his spine.

“You’re not going to change your mind now,” Newt was looking him straight in the eye and gently tugged at his hair like in a demanding gesture. “Right? You’re not going to overthink it again and say you changed your mind after all and leave me hanging again.”

“No,” Thomas shook his head. He would never forgive himself if he did after all this. Not when he saw how hopeful Newt in fact had been, how his eyes lit up at the reassurance and how his body finally relaxed enough for Thomas to say it was natural and calm.

“I also like your eyes,” the blond suddenly said and Thomas blinked in confusion.

“Yeah?”

“Not just your butt, so don’t think of me as a perv,” another tug on Thomas’ hair and it made the brunet laugh. “Although it’s a nice bonus.”

“Good one, boyo.”

Newt hummed and then the hands dropped back on Thomas’ shoulders, gently picking on the fabric of his shirt. He seemed deep in thought and when Thomas tilted his head to the side to ask what was on his mind, Newt spoke up:

“Can we kiss again?”

“I dunno, can we?” Thomas teased him with a smirk and it seemed to relax the blond somehow, since he smiled and shrugged as if he didn’t know as well, but then leaned in anyway. Thomas didn’t know how much he anticipated it in return.

***

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home?” Thomas replied with a light shrug while reaching for his keys on the table. “It’s late, have work tomorrow.”

“And?” Newt yawned and managed to get back to a sitting position from his previous curled up on a couch. They ended up there because it was the closest, because Newt wanted to cuddle and because Thomas had to stop him somehow from pulling at his clothes all the damn time. The kissing was amazing, but as they progressed, Newt started to be bolder and Thomas really didn’t think it was the right time to push this further.

Of course, explaining it to the teenage succubus would be in vain, so he decided to lead Newt’s attention to somewhere else – the closeness and much safer napping. Surprisingly it worked.

“And I need some sleep.”

“You can sleep here,” Newt immediately threw in. “I think you already noticed I actually have a functional bed?”

“Yes,” Thomas shrugged and glanced at the door to the bedroom, then back at the boy. “But I’m getting up early.”

“I swear I will start a book named _Thomas’ lame arguments_ ,” Newt shook his head and stood up as well, which made the retreat much harder now.

“Great,” Thomas reacted briskly and started walking towards the exit, with Newt closely following him. He was definitely not letting him go easily. “Would go great along with mine _Newt’s smartass comebacks_ issue.”

“Tommy,” the pet name sounded a little pouty and Thomas had to take a deep breath. He had to get some alone time, for real. He had this kid curled up around him – or on him – for _hours_ , not to mention the kisses weren’t exactly PG either, and as much as he would go for it normally, this really, _really_ wasn’t the best time. They barely established they actually wanted to start something, pushing it further after an argument didn’t seem right this early (not that he minded make up sex, not at all, just… yeah). But if he tried to explain it to this kid, another argument wouldn’t be far behind, he could feel it.

So yeah. Just a bit of an alone time, just a little while.

_God, I’m seriously despicable._

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he turned to him with a fake innocence and Newt almost crashed into him how he was mid-strut. “So we both can get some nice rest, think of what happened and-,”

”Oh god,” Newt’s eyes widened. “It’s here.”

“What?”

“You’re starting to have second thoughts,” a stupid notion, really. His thoughts consisted mostly of… not anything second. At all. _Fuck._

“I’m not having second thoughts,” Thomas rolled his eyes and gripped the blond by his shoulders to still him. “ _At all_.”

“Then stay here, what’s the problem?” this was a legitimate pout and Thomas was close to whining. Was there any way how to calm him down and be able to leave? Because it seriously didn’t look like it. And it definitely didn’t help when Newt decided verbal action wasn’t enough and hugs were more successful either.

“You left me hanging for _weeks_ and now you want to leave again?” he complained to Thomas’ shoulder and Thomas had to bit his tongue to keep any possible noise inside of him. “How mean is tha-ehm.”

Newt moved slightly, his grip eased off and then he pulled closer again, so he could whisper to Thomas ear:

“Is that your gun, Tommy, or are you happy to see me?”

If Thomas really had the gun, he would shoot himself on the spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> About butts and boners ~
> 
> Also guys, check this awesome trailer from rsprodz for this fic! http://rsprodz.tumblr.com/post/146416888076/thomasnewt-weak-blood-fanfic-trailer-written


	17. Lowkey Dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re no fun, Tommy,” Newt pouted, but there was mischief in it and Thomas took another cautious step further from him. Not to mention the pet naming didn’t really help. “Should I take offense in you not letting me touch it?”  
> “Oh god.”  
> “Wait, are you shy?” Newt tilted his head to the side.   
> “I’m frustrated, Newt,” Thomas pinched bridge of his nose. “That’s what I am.”

“I really should go.”

“You have a boner and you want to leave?” Newt, as always, didn’t have mercy with him and Thomas kind of wanted to disappear from the Earth’s surface, just for a good measure. Not only he couldn’t get his body under control no matter how much he tried, but Newt apparently found it amusing to the point of Thomas’ mortification.

Which – no wonder.

“Yes, precisely,” he replied anyway and hoped he wasn’t as red as his face felt. God, it was high school all over again or something, being too lively in the lower region just because his crush was close to him.

Literally close to him. In personal space. Touching. And now even-

“Stop pulling at my belt!” he smacked Newt’s hands in reprimand and took a step back. “Just let me take care of it-,”

“I can help-,”

“-at home, _alone_.”

“Why?” the blond tilted his head to the side. “I’m perfectly capable to do that for you.”

“Please, stop talking,” Thomas groaned and none of his unpleasant thoughts he was trying to replay in his head in an eternal loop helped. “It’s a no.”

“Are you a virgin?”

“No.”

“Your ex never did that for you?”

“Newt,” he warned him sternly, but that little devil only grinned wider and Thomas really needed to get out of here or the resolution not to push it further would crumble.

“Technically,” Newt raised his hands up as if he wanted to show him he was going to behave. “We are dating now, right? So also technically these things are completely normal?”

“It has been few hours, boyo,” another step back. “If we should go by rules, we shouldn’t have even kissed on a first date. If… we can consider the shout fest a first date.”

“We had been lowkey dating for _weeks_ ,” Newt opposed. “Just without perks. So no rules actually apply.”

“If you mean shouting at each other-“

“I mean cuddling, mostly,” Newt rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a pessimist. You need to get more _hard-_ willed.”

“Hilarious,” Thomas grumbled and one would have thought the conversation would make it go away slightly, but nothing really worked on it as it seemed. Well, except of Newt, but unfortunately in the opposite way. “Let’s leave it for today, shall we?”

“You’re no fun, Tommy,” Newt pouted, but there was mischief in it and Thomas took another cautious step further from him. Not to mention the pet naming didn’t really help. “Should I take offense in you not letting me touch it?”

“Oh god.”

“Wait, are you shy?” Newt tilted his head to the side.  

“I’m frustrated, Newt,” Thomas pinched bridge of his nose. “That’s what I am.”

He really wasn’t sure how Newt was going to take it, but the thought of actually giving in here, at this exact moment, was not what he wanted it to be. And just because he didn’t have some for months wasn’t really considered a proper excuse either and Thomas was ashamed for it, especially when he should have been the _more mature_ in this relationship.

He wasn’t fifteen anymore, geez.

“Aw, man,” Newt chuckled, but actually took a step back. “Fine, big boy. I get it.”

“You’re not mad?” Thomas raised an eyebrow. He kind of expected the blond to take offense in it somehow, which there wasn’t anything at his fault, but Thomas thought he would complain about it. It was, after all, part of being with somebody – but hell, not for several hours. Maybe Newt was more mature than Thomas initially thought.

“Well, no, not mad,” Newt shrugged. “A little disappointed I guess, but… at the same time it’s kinda hilarious, so no biggie.”

“Of course it is,” Thomas let out a sigh, but a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders. Not from his groin though. Newt grinned at him and took several steps back until he planted a small, innocent kiss on Thomas’ cheek, like he didn’t want to antagonize him further.

_Surprising._

“Think of me when taking care of it,” the blond purred into his ear like a cat and if Thomas wanted to keep some decorum while leaving, the groan he let out definitely wasn’t part of it.

***

At first he wanted not to give Newt satisfaction while taking care of his problem in the shower, but the more he tried to wish it away with cold water, the less it worked and the more he had the blond boy on his mind, like a poison creeping into his lungs.

Except it wasn’t really deadly or annoying. It was actually only a little embarrassing when he realized Newt was probably very much aware of this situation and of Thomas’ course of thoughts during it, and he was ready to face smug smiles and excessive puns tomorrow.

“Goddamn kid,” he gritted through his teeth when exiting the shower, his body still thrumming with energy. He was pleasantly spent, but somehow felt like this wasn’t exactly it, or enough in his head, and that made him even more embarrassed about it.

It wasn’t anything weird, he was just a guy and had somebody he fancied on his lap for several hours, wriggling and touching and occasionally even biting (Thomas told him to cut it off every time, but Newt only smirked and licked the spot he bit as if it made it better – _no, it did not_ ). But somehow the crazy pace this thing obtained through the course of one day got him recoiling a little from the sheer absurdity of it.

At first Newt decided to be tough and dismiss him, then apologized and instead of mending the so-called friendship, they just made it worse with a shout fest, which slowly morphed into a confession time and ended up in a dating situation. It was like a hurricane that swept everything along its path, leaving no place for second thoughts or take backs, and Thomas surprised even himself when he realized he had no such thoughts, not even remotely. Yes, he wasn’t entirely sure _how_ they were going to function or how exactly he should progress in it, but somehow he had this nice, comforting feeling in his gut and that hadn’t been there for ages. Not even when he ordered pizza he liked and where he should have been 100 % sure of his choice (which was a bad example, but it still worked).

He padded through the living room to his table, just to notice his phone bleeping with a new message, so he opened it without second thought, just to get Newt’s remark that he _should have_ expected.

**Newt – 23:44 –**

**All fine and dandy with ya? >:)**

“You sneaky little…” he groaned, but his lips curled up in a smile anyway. He wondered what Newt had to think of him now? Getting tight pants just because of Newt’s presence (and well, yeah, some kissing and groping, but he should have been able to handle that) was rather unexpected, and then even dealing with it apparently wasn’t the expected approach. Should have he stayed?

**Thomas – 23:59 –**

**Had a nice, calming shower if that’s what you mean :)**

**Newt – 00:01 –**

**Sure that’s what I mean. A shower ;)**

**Thomas – 00:03 –**

**Then it’s all fine and dandy.**

**Newt - 00:05 –**

**I kept on hiccupping, thought of me a lot? :D**

“Oh boy,” Thomas chuckled and it would be hilarious if it had been true. But yes, he thought of him _immensely_ , and the more he tried not to, the more he did, until it all ended with Newt’s name on his lips and a shameless moan and if Newt heard it, or God forbid saw it, Thomas would probably never live it down.

But it was easy, really. Easier than Thomas thought it would be, considering his current experience evolving only around women and their enticing parts he liked. No surprise from the fact boys didn’t have the _squishy_ parts that would pull his sight towards it, and yet only imagining Newt there with him, with his cheeky smile and sparkling eyes and really kissable lips, it just happened so naturally Thomas didn’t question it.

But, as much as this sated his sudden level of want, the simple imagination ignited another need – for the real deal, for an actual warm, pliant body, for the real voice with breathy moans and enchanting words.

_Not that I’d tell him though._

**Thomas – 00:10 –**

**Moderately :)**

**Newt – 00:12 –**

**That was a long pause, had to breath it out a bit? :D**

**Thomas – 00:14 –**

**Aren’t you full of yourself :o**

**Newt – 00:16 –**

**So far only of myself, yeah :P**

“You just didn’t,” Thomas banged his head against the table and whined. Why was that kid so damn shameless? He almost felt like the condition was running back to him and he gritted his teeth at it.

**Thomas – 00:23 –**

**I’ve spent about five minutes cursing, thanks.**

**Newt – 00:25 –**

**Five minutes! Must have ran out of the words, or do you know any other languages? Maybe you made new curse words up? ;)**

**Thomas – 00:26 –**

**I swear to god, If I had you near me right now, you’d be in trouble.**

**Newt – 00:27 –**

**Let me break it up to you – I live one floor under you, I would actually welcome that advance AND you have the key :D**

**Thomas – 00:28 –**

**NO.**

**Newt – 00:29 –**

**Party pooper :P**

Thomas took a deep breath, counted to ten and looked at the clock above the door of his kitchen.

“I’m not going to have enough sleep tonight,” he grumbled while typing _goodnight, succubus!_ to his _goddamn boyfriend_. If he had been a lightning charge, they would have to evacuate a city because of him in this condition, that for sure.

_Newt’s fault._

He just hoped there was at least small chance he wasn’t frustrated alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Yeaaah. This was a bit without proper plot :D


	18. Backstabbing Wenches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shouldn’t you be concentrating on your work instead of my love life?” he raised an eyebrow and she gave him an unimpressed look.  
> “Ever heard of multitasking, Tommy-boy?” she stabbed him to his chest with her finger and her eyes were already telling him she knew probably more than him alone. “Now spill the beans.”  
> “Spill the beans?” he repeated with an eye roll. “Please. You already know, you’re just waiting for me to admit it.”  
> “Do I now?” she grinned at him and of course she knew, she had been pestering him about it for weeks. “Well, maybe I really just want to hear you say it.”

“You haven’t slept?”

“Sorry,” Thomas rubbed his eyes and gulped down the rest of his coffee. He slept probably three hours or so, either his mind played tricks on him or he texted with Newt, where half of it was about going to sleep, needing to work and calling the blond a bad influence. Newt just sent him kisses and ended it with _you love me anyway_.

“No problem, man,” Winston shrugged. “It’s just rare with you. Had a long night?”

“Very long,” Thomas mumbled, automatically reaching for his phone to look through the texts. There was crazy amount of them only from yesterday and some of them were too dangerous to read again.

“I can cover the shift for you if you need it,” Winston offered. “Have a free day and all. Wouldn’t mind it.”

“It’s all good,” Thomas assured him with a smile. He felt like he needed to work, clear his head a little. He had been up in the clouds for a since he woke up, all the way to work and also until this exact moment, spacing out and replaying everything that happened yesterday like on a broken record. He was pretty sure he also smiled stupidly while at it, because that’s usually how his face worked when he thought happy thoughts.

“Mate,” Winston suddenly sat in front of him – already suited up and ready to leave, yet lingering. “Are you in love?”

“Huh?” Thomas blinked in surprise, focusing at his colleague with wide eyes. In love? Was he… in love? So soon? Well, he definitely had been swayed, no argument there, but _love_ was such a strong word he associated with a complete inability to keep his thoughts off that somebody while wanting to do _everything_ he could for them, and…

God, he was in love. He was in love for long.

He was such a fucking _tit._

“Cuz you look like you are,” Winston pointed at him. “Meant to ask you a week ago already, but I rarely saw you, so I’m asking now cuz it’s still there.”

“What is still there?” Thomas fidgeted on the chair and put the phone down as it was one of the evidences that could blew his cover. And while it was _full_ of the messages they exchanges tomorrow, revolving around boners and other unsafe themes, Thomas could easily say it _was_ one of the main evidences from all.

But wait, what cover? He wasn’t even hiding it.

“ _It_ ,” Winston shrugged. “Just it. The way you space out, the way you’re still on your phone, just the way you act lately.”

“Lately?” Thomas tilted his head to the side and his colleague smirked. Thomas didn’t like that expression – it meant Winston _knew_ something dangerous.

“About a week at least, maybe two?” he grinned. “I heard about the break up though, so is it somebody new?”

“How is nothing here a secret?” Thomas groaned, but he expected everybody knowing without him telling them anyway. “Yes, it’s somebody new. But keep it to yourself.”

“If nobody else is going to find out like I did, sure,” Winston retorted sweetly and stood up again. “Tell me if you change your mind. I can even take your shift on tomorrow night if you need.”

“Are you that bored or are there problems on the horizon you want to avoid?” Thomas decided not to comment on the relationship issue because even if Winston did keep his mouth shut, somehow, somebody would know anyway. Thomas secretly thought they had the whole hospital bugged.

“Surprisingly no problems,” Winston refused the idea calmly. “But my missus is having her exams now and I try not to interfere so she can concentrate, capisce?”

“I see,” Thomas mumbled quietly. Newt was still at school as well, although not university as Winston’s girlfriend. He was going to have assignments to do, and exams to fill, and Thomas almost forgot what it meant to study while stressing over it.

“So I have this whole week more or less free,” his colleague added. “Which kinda sucks, because there is still work, so I can’t leave somewhere, but then staying home is a whack as well, so… yeah.”

“I feel ya,” Thomas nodded in understanding. “I will think about it.”

“Okay,” Winston smiled happily (which was weird, because usually nobody was happy for an extra shift, but weird things happened from time to time) and left Thomas in the changing room by himself.

***

“Soooo… in love, huh?”

“I give up,” Thomas groaned and Brenda gave him a sly smile. “Did Winston just stop by on his way out, said bye and _btw. Thomas is in love, see ya tomorrow?_ ”

“More or less, yeah,” the nurse shrugged like it was no big deal and handed Thomas a clipboard. “He also said _don’t tell him I told you_ , if it counts.”

“You’re both backstabbing wenches.”

“Sure we are,” Brenda patted him on his cheek and started searching for a file the doctor requested. “So?”

“Shouldn’t you be concentrating on your work instead of my love life?” he raised an eyebrow and she gave him an unimpressed look.

“Ever heard of multitasking, _Tommy_ -boy?” she stabbed him to his chest with her finger and her eyes were already telling him she knew probably more than him alone. “Now spill the beans.”

“Spill the beans?” he repeated with an eye roll. “Please. You already know, you’re just waiting for me to admit it.”

“Do I now?” she grinned at him and of course she knew, she had been pestering him about it for _weeks_. “Well, maybe I really just want to hear you say it.”

“Yes, I’m dating him,” he put the clipboard down with a heavy sigh. “There.”

“Ha, I knew it!” she pointed at him victoriously and Thomas wondered if she could be any louder, since the patients in the second waiting room probably didn’t hear her. “Why didn’t I bet on you? I’d win a bunch!”

“Please don’t tell me there were bets going around as well,” he whined and she made a sad face.

 _Phew_.

“Unfortunately,” she seemed really upset about it and he want to smack her over her pretty head. “But no matter. So how did he get you?”

“Really, Brenda?” he huffed and she smiled while handing a file to the doctor that peeked out of his office, giving her another name in return.

“Well, you see,” she started searching for another the requested item. “That kiddo stopped by the other day. Said the deal is off, he’s healthy, and that you two agreed on it. Sounded weird, since you were always so hyped about it, and he too, so I kept on wondering what was going on.”

“Stuff,” he shrugged. “Not important.”

“Well, I assumed you had a fight,” she finally found what she was looking for and put it on the counter, then leaned over it. “A big one. So he just called it off while not wanting to see you ever again, blah, blah, all that drama.”

“Not really,” he opposed. “We barely talked during my sick leave.”

“Ah,” she seemed thoughtful for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “So you ignored him.”

“Do you have my flat bugged as well?” he narrowed his eyes at her, because really, this all couldn’t just come out of nowhere, right?

“No, but my brain still works, which I can’t sometimes tell about yours,” she was merciless and he just grumbled something. “Well. But that was yesterday, so… how did you deal with it?”

“Feels like it was like a year ago,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, we just dealt. Had that big fight you thought we had before, a nice, unpleasant shout fest, and that sort of morphed into confession fest and here we are.”

“Dating,” she added and Thomas gave her a small nod. “Just like that. You shout and then you kiss and make up?”

“Basically.”

It wasn’t _that_ easy, but all in all it summarized what happened nicely, didn’t it?

“With the blond kid,” she added as if she was sorting the facts right and Thomas gulped down Newt’s name to correct her. “You cradle robber.”

“Brenda, seriously,” he glared at her unhappily and lowered his voice when a mother with a small child glanced at him with suspicion. “He’s not a kid anymore.”

“Well, he’s not an adult either,” she grinned at him, but then waved her hand dismissively. “No no, I’m happy for you, I really am. It’s just… such a big change? From the Swan princess to this Grumpy bear.”

“I know,” he clicked his pen several times, his eyes unfocused. It was strange – Thomas always thought he had a _type_. Usually dark haired girls with big eyes and sense of humour did it for him (like Teresa had been a perfect prototype of – she was smart, she knew how to make him laugh, she was beautiful and lovable), so the sudden change not only from girls to guys, but from basically everything else (Newt as blond and thin and pissy, but also adorable and with great sense of humour) caught even him by surprise. “I’m not sure how it happened either.”

“Oh?” she seemed interested in that. “You mean you just went with the flow? No sudden flame, no love at the first sight?”

“No,” he shrugged and it was strange, but the first thing he felt when he saw this kid was that he needed to help him to get better. And somehow, along the way, there was more he wanted to know about him, more he wanted to uncover, until he realized he was deep in completely different kind of _want_ and _need_ , and that only watching him get better wasn’t enough. “But…”

“Yeah, your stupid face says it all,” she snorted and smacked him with the file. He wasn’t even surprised when the patients were eying them warily for the rest of the day.

***

It was about five minutes until the end of the shift and the waiting room didn’t get any emptier – Thomas would even say it was a little worse, and the more of the patients were coming in, the more he felt like he would take Winston’s offer and take a day – or in this case night – off.

“Is there a possibility to have a private consultation with somebody who understands how meds work?” sounded somewhere next to him and Thomas automatically shook his head.

“Sorry, sir, but-,” he looked up and snorted, when he realized it was Newt who was standing at the counter with a wide grin and held a muffin in his hand. “Cheeky.”

“I try,” the blond tapped on the counter and then looked around. The room was unhappily full and Thomas was only waiting for the next shift to relieve him, but he wasn’t happy about leaving it on another poor sod like a never ending loop. “They’re giving something for free here?”

“Germs,” Thomas mumbled and reached under the table for the face mask so he could hand it to Newt. “Take this, you just got better, don’t need to catch anything else.”

“Aw, you do care,” the blond responded cheekily, but he actually took the mask like a good boy and Thomas kind of wanted to hug him for it. “Here, take a muffin as a reward.”

“You got me a muffin?” Thomas blinked at the pastry and barked out a laugh. It was almost like a Deja vie, only reversed, and Thomas took the treat with a wide smile.

“Well, you’ve been a good boy,” Newt shrugged and pulled at the mask unhappily. “And I can’t kiss you for it with this on. How much longer do you have to stay?”

“Until-,”

“Somebody relives him, that’s how long,” a wild Brenda appeared at his side, slinking an arm around his shoulders. “Right, TomTom.”

“Wench,” he uttered dryly and she only kissed his cheek and focused back at Newt.

“So how is it going, Grumpy?” she asked cheerfully. It was a wonder Newt remained so calm, Thomas was sure she was doing that on purpose. “All in order? Safety first, hm?”

“Naturally,” Newt shrugged. “Sick people can’t have as much fun as healthy ones, hm?”

“Oh, you said it,” she winked at him and for a while Thomas wasn’t sure if they were playing each other, or both of them played something at him. “But I’m sure Thomas would make you sweat real good.”

“Brenda!” Thomas growled at her, but she didn’t budge, and Newt leaned against the counter with a smile on his face, even though hidden under the mask. Thomas saw it in his eyes though, how amused he had been – especially since they made fun on Thomas’ account.

“Sure he would,” he immediately agreed and Thomas wanted to cry. “He’s only high quality porn after all.”

“Oh god,” Thomas hit his head against the table and whined. “I hate you both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Friends will be friends. Even though they gossip terribly.


	19. Wanna see my ID?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey,” Newt whispered mid kiss, his hands returning to Thomas’ neck, resting there gently. “It’s not like touching is off limits.”  
> “My brain doesn’t really function at the moment,” Thomas muttered back, his chest heaving. “Actually nothing does as it should.”  
> “Oh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of M rating.

“I can’t believe you actually remember the high quality porn comment.”

“Of course I remember your high quality porn comment,” Newt’s voice had been muffled – but then again no wonder, since he was trying to leave hickeys on Thomas’ neck while pressing him against the main door. It was a bit of a Deja vu, but somehow hotter and with less options for retreat.

Although Thomas’ brain didn’t even think of running away. When they reached home and Newt immediately sucked on his neck, he kind of expected it, probably, since Newt kept on watching him the whole way back, as if he was _waiting_. And it was endearing somehow, like he was expecting a treat.

_I’m hardly any though._

“It was the moment where I thought you’re probably insane,” Newt continued, this time softly whispering in Thomas’ ear before biting it, earning a hum. It didn’t hurt, but still poured a little more into the fire that had been growing inside of Thomas’ belly. “To the point of me being actually capable of tolerating you.”

“You talk so sweet,” Thomas rolled his eyes, but Newt only chuckled and returned to Thomas’ lips, brushing against them gently. His eyes were dark and consuming and Thomas was pretty sure his own were as well – big and curious and wanton.    

“Well, you worked for it,” Newt nibbled on his lower lip before kissing it shortly. “So now I’m only waiting for you to prove you are, in fact, high quality porn as you boasted to be.”

“Look at this underage demanding sexy times,” Thomas couldn’t not to nag a little and Newt snorted, but didn’t pull away an inch, actually pressed a little more into Thomas.

“Should I expect you to chicken out of this _now_?” he tilted his head to the side and Thomas wanted to say yes for a while, to ruffle him up a bit, but then decided against it and only pecked him on the lips.

“Work for it, boyo,” he smirked and only distinctly wondered if it was a mistake, since Newt’s expression grew hungrier and Thomas had a brief moment of re-evaluation of his life choices. It lasted about two seconds before Newt pushed again and kissed Thomas as if he was starving for it – hungry lips and insisting dominance, and yeah, _of course_ , this wasn’t that sickly kid anymore he met on the stairs. This was somebody who _wanted_ Thomas and somebody Thomas wanted in return, and it was funny, because until this moment Thomas could say he felt the tension but could mostly repress it, but now it was like a vicious flood that teared apart every border on its way.

Newt seemed like he didn’t know where he wanted to touch first, so he touched _everywhere_ , his hands erratically mapping Thomas’ torso, then pulling at his jacket, dragging it down his shoulders while keeping the filthy kiss up, and it was so surreal Thomas couldn’t properly respond at first.

This wasn’t how he was used it to be. This was much more intense and somewhat powerful – and he usually was in charge, wasn’t he? He was the one making the first move, who did the touching, who made the girl moan under his hands, but it was _him_ now who suddenly couldn’t keep his voice in, and the more Newt was progressing with the clothes, the more he felt like he was being devoured. There were bites along his jaw and down his neck, stopping at his collarbones while the shirt was out of the way, and he distinctly noticed his legs were getting weaker with each passing moment.

Newt wasn’t playing around, Thomas thought when he stared at the blond hair when Newt dropped lower, kissing his way down Thomas’ abdomen. There were nails scraping on Thomas’ naked sides and somewhat needy noises he wasn’t sure if belonged to him or Newt, and he knew now – the kid wasn’t a kid anymore and Thomas was completely blind when he didn’t notice. Newt was fully aware what he wanted and Thomas was apparently that goal, and it made his chest hurt a little with everything that flooded his inner being along with the realisation.

They weren’t fooling around. This wasn’t a game. There wasn’t a way back or call it quits in the middle. This was it. This was when Thomas’ barrier crumbled and Newt’s presence intertwined with his own and it was bittersweet somehow, yet completely disarming.

A tug on his belt made him whine and Newt looked up, his pupils blown wide and lips red from all the kissing and Thomas realized he had been staring in a complete shock at him for what felt like eternity.

What was this almost painful pressure in his chest? What was the overwhelming want that rushed into him while seeing the blond on his knees, ruffled and sexed up? He never felt like this before – and he had been so in love with Teresa and everything. He found her fucking beautiful and sexy, but this? It just couldn’t compare and the amount of desire inside of him was a little maddening. It was arousing, somehow, and he didn’t even need to think of anything else and his body acted on its own. His hand raked through the blond hair and he was shaking – his hands, his legs, and it was weird, since there wasn’t anything scary about it, was it? Yet he couldn’t even his breathing either and Newt somehow seemed to comprehend what was going on, since he stood back up and kissed Thomas again, his lips soft and much calmer now, as if he tried to soothe Thomas’ anxiety.

_What anxiety? I’m just so fucking overwhelmed._

“Hey,” Newt whispered mid kiss, his hands returning to Thomas’ neck, resting there gently. “It’s not like touching is off limits.”

“My brain doesn’t really function at the moment,” Thomas muttered back, his chest heaving. “Actually nothing does as it should.”

“Oh?”

There was a sudden touch in his groin and Thomas yelped, the wave of excitement rushing through his body like a lightning bolt.

“This seems like it works properly,” Newt grinned at him happily and Thomas groaned. Of course he had to do that, that little sly fox. “Would be bummer if not.”

“Are you seriously just seventeen?” Thomas glared at him, but it didn’t have any heat of anger, so he wasn’t surprised when Newt promptly ignored it.

“Sure am,” Newt licked his chin, and then continued down the neck again. “Wanna see my ID?”

“Fuck your ID.”

“Just fuck my ID?” another jab and a small bite on Thomas’ right shoulder. “I hope not.”

“Please stop talking,” Thomas pulled at his hair in reprimand and Newt chuckled and the tugging on Thomas’ belt resumed.

“I don’t know how you are doing this,” the talking didn’t stop, _of course_ , and Thomas felt like the British accent was slowly becoming a kink for him. It resonated within him in a rich, lustful echo and every time Newt said something dirty, it multiplied. “But you’re so fucking erotic I can barely keep myself in check.”

“Me?” Thomas wanted to laugh, but it came out breathless instead, thanks to kisses that returned to his neck, apparently leaving marks all over the skin. It made him shudder just from the sole image of himself tomorrow, marked and probably trying to hide the proof of this night while feeling shaky and wanton inside for another shot of it.

_Goddamn, I’ve never been this out of control before._

“Something about you,” a small bite, then a lick, and right after the belt gave out and Newt pulled it off with one, swift movement and threw it away. “Makes me go _crazy_. I’m not even bloody joking.”

Thomas’ legs grew weaker.

“Your lips,” there was an immediate brush of their mouths together and Thomas shuddered.

“Your voice.” A sudden touch between his legs made Thomas cry out in unexpected flood of ecstasy and it was so _warm_ and pleasant he felt the charge inside of him building up already, almost embarrassingly fast, and he almost choked for how goddamn easy he had been.

“The look in your eyes,” Newt’s voice continued to tease him in a heavy whisper, a rough, unyielding tone of pure want. He could barely breathe and when he focused back at his blond lover, it was like staring into pits of hell that promised the sweetest punishment for his sins. He had to take a deep breath to stop himself from losing it right on the spot.

“You keep this up and it’s going to be over pretty fast,” he growled and Newt’s lips widened in the most pleased smile he had ever seen, like a cat that just got the cream. The grip in the south area tightened and Thomas groaned and threw his head back with a broken sound.

There was no way he was going to last. _No way in the fucking hell_ , with this guy touching him like that.

“Flash news, Tommy,” a sly voice reached his ears and the touches got faster and more demanding. “We have the _whole night_ and I’m determined to make you squirm through it.”

Thomas’ body convulsed and white noise washed over him like a tidal wave. Then his legs gave out.

***

He woke up fairly early, considering how late he actually fell asleep. There was silence filling the room to the brink, and an unfamiliar ceiling stared back at him from above as he drew blank on what exactly was going on.

He moved slightly, then realized there was a warm, lithe body plastered to his side, breathing softly. He felt heavy and hot and little out of place and the additional warmth only made him more uncomfortable. There was a sticky feeling added to it as well and when he finally moved to sit up, it all flooded back to him.

They were in Newt’s bedroom. They didn’t even take shower after they made out. Hell, he refused to move anywhere when they both finally stopped with the teasing, and he didn’t care at that point for how spent he had been.

Well, it wasn’t sex per se. No Kamasutra Olympics, no weird kinks or positions, but lots of touching and kissing and licking and… He shuddered, his body waking up as if in advance, and he gulped down the groan that wanted to reach his lips. What was wrong with him? He was never so fucking lame before, not this caught up and unable to control himself.

He glanced sideways at the blond boy lying next to him, pretty much in the same state of undress, and cringed. There were vicious marks all over his neck and chest and Thomas wanted to slap himself for it.

So he didn’t want to rush it, yeah? He thought taking time before doing intimate things was in order, to know each other better, to find out the most comfortable zone and…

…his yesterday self said fuck it and here they were.

“If you’re overthinking this stuff again, I’m breaking up with you.”

Nails scraped against Thomas’ lower back and then Newt was yawning and burying himself deeper under the cover. His hair was a mess and eyes barely open and Thomas felt like something was swelling in his chest, wanting out.

“Just usual morning thoughts,” he replied quietly and Newt hummed, his arms circling around Thomas’ waist as he pulled closer to him.

“Then don’t let them get to you,” another yawn. “Morning sucks. The night was great and I love you.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Thomas smiled and it calmed him down somehow. He didn’t regret it, that for sure. But he felt some sort of guilt anyway, although he couldn’t say he took an advantage of the kid either, since Newt was the one who initiated it.

“That’s right,” the blond mumbled into the skin. “Go back to sleep. I can’t believe you’re awake in such stupid hour.”

“Cheeky brat,” Thomas shook his head but dragged himself back down anyway, and Newt immediately curled around him like a tiny octopus. He was warm – maybe a bit too warm, and Thomas turned on his side and gently touched his face, then stopped on his forehead. It… wasn’t like he had a fever per se, it didn’t feel _that_ warm, but it wasn’t a normal temperature either.

“Hm?” Newt opened his eyes again, his hazed gaze searching, and Thomas shook his head.

“Nothing,” he assured him. “You feel okay?”

“Sleepy and little horny, but fine,” came a reply and Thomas rolled his eyes. That kid was going to be a death of him. “Wanna do something about your morning wood?”

“Shut up,” Thomas grumbled and angled his hips better. It didn’t stop Newt from laughing though and Thomas had to bat his hands away when he tried to reach him. “Sleep.”

“I could lend you a hand,” Newt offered a sleepy smirk. “Make your morning better.”

“Sleep!”

“You’re a terrible boyfriend,” Newt snorted, but actually stopped with the advance and curled back into a sleeping position. “Gotta train ya.”

Thomas decided it was not worth to react. There was no winning against this guy anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Not really porn but without plot for sure :D


	20. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you dating him?” The question was out before he could stop himself. The morbidity of his own dreams chased him all the way here and when presented an opening, he struck. Teresa stiffened a bit.  
> “It’s fine if you do,” he assured her, although not really knowing why. Just about two weeks ago – hell, maybe even just one – it wouldn’t be okay at all. Aris had been his best friend and him suddenly dating his ex-girlfriend was tacky and sounding like from a bad movie.

“I dunno if I should feel offended, scandalized or amused.”

“None of those things,” Thomas uttered dryly and batted Brenda’s hand away from the collar of his shirt. Newt was merciless when it came to marking, so Thomas’ neck (shoulders, collarbones and belly, thank you very much) were like a swarm of vicious mosquitos attacked him over night. Some of them still kind of stung but Thomas decided not to complain, because he let him do that and made some in return. Would be rather selfish in that case, wouldn’t it.

“You totally did it,” Brenda didn’t listen to him at all, but kept her hands to herself at least. “I can’t believe you’re able to endure the adolescent idea that hickeys are sexy.”

“They are not,” Thomas mumbled unhappily. “It’s terrible and I have people turning around when they pass me like I’m the biggest pervert. But I’m not going to stop him either.”

“Sappy Thomas is sappy,” Brenda shook her head and zipped up her jacket. She was more of a tomboy outside of the work and with her short hair and baseball caps on her head she could have been easily mistaken for a boy on her way through the city. “Well, won’t tell you what to do. Just sayin’.”

“I hear you,” he stopped with the writing and gave her a tired look. “And despite this being the result, given the chance I’d let him do it again anyway.”

“Sa-ppy,” she grinned and patted his head. “Well, I’m leaving. Enjoy your night shift, you child molester.”

“Scam,” he rolled his eyes and she left the hospital with laughter into the rainy night.

Thomas considered calling Winston to take the shift during the whole day. They had been lazing around in bed with Newt until about two in the afternoon and as much as Thomas wasn’t normally a fan of this kind of time spending, he found it strangely pleasing. He wasn’t sure _why_ he didn’t asked for a day off in the end and actually left in the evening after kissing Newt soundly with _see you tomorrow, succubus,_ but he was here now and already missed the possibility of cuddling with his boyfriend, especially when outside rained like the world was ending and the nice, warm bed was the most appealing thing ever.

That was his life now. Cuddling, leaving immature marks all over visible places, falling into a shameful fluff and abandoning his regular workaholic ecstasy for a moody seventeen years old.

“Oh thank god, Tom!”

His daydreaming (or actually night dreaming, since the clock showed something past midnight already and he barely noticed the time running so fast since he arrived four hours ago) interrupted too familiar voice to overlook it, and he almost choked when he focused at the figure standing in front of the counter.

“Teresa?” his eyes widened in honest shock when he saw her there, drenched from the rain apparently, since her hair were wet and clung to her face and neck in ink black ropes, along with clothes looking uncomfortably cold. There was another girl draped around her shoulders, barely standing on her feet, and looked even worse – like she was rolling in a mud or something. “What the…?”

“She’s barely conscious, you gotta help me,” Teresa’s voice had been panicky and her eyes scared and Thomas’ inner sense of a caretaker finally kicked in, so he quickly circled the counter and helped her with the other girl.

“Rachel?” he immediately recognized her and she was basically green in her face and smelled like a liquor store. “For fuck’s sake, did she drink up the whole bar or something?”

“I think she poisoned herself,” Teresa’s lower lip trembled when Thomas took Rachel to his arms and called for another nurse to bring the camp bed. “She drank too much, and then threw up so many times before we got here, and lost her consciousness several times as well and-,”

“Calm down,” he glanced at Teresa shortly. “It’s going to be fine, just calm down.”

Rachel looked terrible though, her mouth was slacked, her eyes not even fully closed, but only the white had been visible and Thomas was pretty sure the poisoning was really ugly in her case. The bed arrived along with doctor Janson (Thomas tried to hide a little) and Thomas helped the unconscious girl on it with a cringe when she suddenly came to her senses and threw all over the floor and his shoes and pants before losing it again.

“I’ll take it from here,” doctor Janson said with a frown and looked Thomas over. “Go change and find out what she drank.”

Thomas managed only to nod and then Janson was already departing with the bed and another nurse, leaving him and Teresa in the hallway that smelled like barf and piss. Teresa was shivering and sniffling and Thomas had no idea what to say.

“So…” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “What happened?”

Teresa remained quiet for a while, like she didn’t even hear him, but then finally looked his way and shook her head.

“The birthday party,” she mumbled after, shivering. “She kept on drinking. She seemed fine all the time and nobody paid enough attention to the amount, but… then she collapsed and…”

“She mixed lots of stuff I guess?” he avoided her eyes, hating himself for the bitter feeling that rose through his whole body. Rachel’s birthday, and she didn’t even bother to invite him to whatever – how lame this whole situation with the break up turned out? He lost so many mutual friends like that and as much as he despised himself for even thinking of it in this situation, it still lodged inside of him anyway. Even Aris basically stopped talking to him, and that probably stung the most.

“I suppose…” she whispered. “I didn’t pay enough attention…”

She looked miserable, like a kitten somebody left in the rain, and Thomas felt sorry for her. Did she drag Rachel here all by herself? Or was somebody waiting for her outside? It was weird standing face to face with her after all this time they didn’t communicate, like the break up happened either _years ago_ , so they forgot how to talk to each other, or _yesterday_ where talking still felt unwelcomed.

He wondered if she thought the same.

“She’s going to be fine,” he blurted out and she nodded quietly. “They will pump her stomach and all that jazz, but she’s going to be fine again. Just a lil sick.”

“Yeah,” she piped.

She was literally drenched to the bone. There was already pool of water under her feet and he could see goose bumps on her bare arms.

“Come with me,” he let out a long breath. “I suppose you want to stay until she’s better?”

“I’d prefer to stay, yes,” she agreed and her eyes were a little brighter, as if she was relieved he offered it. Or maybe she was just tired to keep the silence, he didn’t know. She followed him nevertheless and Thomas counted her steps in his mind to keep himself busy.

Was she expecting him start about the break up? Or did she think he still felt bitter about her leaving him? Or was she dredging he would ask if there was still hope for them?

It almost struck him dead when he realized the sole idea of them resuming the relationship echoed with unpleasant vibe inside of him. He loved her so much when they were together and suddenly he couldn’t even think of continuing?

He sort of expected to feel at least something, not only this… awkwardness. He spent years with her, he even thought at some point this was going to last long, so maybe they should marry in a short future too, but now it seemed tasteless and empty. He still felt connection, yes, like she had been important – she still was to him, no matter what he thought, he felt it – but it didn’t run as deep as he thought it would, like they severed it too brutally for it to be mended again.

_A little sad._

He led her to the changing room and immediately went through the spare clothes they had  piled up in the back. He tried to find something to talk to her about, but nothing viable really came in mind without sounding too forced, so he rather kept his mouth shut and pulled out the white hospital garb.

“You must be joking,” her voice sounded behind him and Thomas turned around with raised eyebrows. “I’m not wearing that.”

“Feel free to freeze then,” he shrugged, holding the garb in an offer. “We had plenty of stupids like that, getting rained on and then ending up here because they were unable to change.”

She eyed him with an unhappy scowl and then pointed at his locker.

“You have spare shirt there,” she uttered in full confidence and Thomas partly hated how she knew this stuff and used it against him without a flinch.

“Yes,” he responded shortly. “But have you ever heard of _beggars can’t be choosers?_ ”

“Yeah,” she smiled a little apologetically. “But I know you have that shirt, so please?”

Thomas contemplated throwing the garb at her and saying _no_ , but it just wouldn’t pass his lips no matter how hard he tried to, so he turned back around, tucked the garb on its place and walked to his locker to get her his own shirt, and spare trousers for himself.

“Thanks,” she took it immediately and turned around. “I appreciate it.”

He only hummed and when she started pulling her own shirt up, he spun on his heels so fast he almost dropped on the ground, and started walking towards the exit.

“Tom?” her voice stopped him and he froze mid move, his heart beating like a drum.

“Yeah?” he didn’t look at her and kept facing the door, because the door was safe and she had no fucking shame. Not that she had something he hadn’t seen already, but seriously.

“Thanks. I’m glad you were here. For Rachel and all,” she sounded genuinely grateful and Thomas’ shoulders dropped a little.

“No worries,” he mumbled quietly. “Anytime.”

When she didn’t say anything else, he left the room with a long sigh and then changed in the bathroom.

***

Rachel was stabilized, but white as a sheet of paper and in a sleep state nobody would be able to interrupt. Doctor Janson said she had been on board of the most disgusting amount of mille he had ever seen and just a bit more and she could have been a goner.

Thomas didn’t say that to Teresa.

The girl had been sitting at Rachel’s bed with puffy eyes for an hour now and Thomas already felt bad enough for her, he didn’t need to make her day even worse.

“I had a feeling there was something happening,” Teresa spoke into the silence and Thomas wasn’t sure why exactly he still stayed in that room with them. He had his own work, things to do, and yet he couldn’t just leave her there in this state.

_Maybe there still is some kind of connection after all._

“Lately she had been distant to all of us,” Teresa continued. “But not as obviously, so nobody really paid much of their minds to it. When the party started, she seemed to be in a great mood. Thought that’s why she kept on drinking with everybody, joking and everything.”

“Things like that happen,” he mumbled. “Ask her once she’s awake. I’m sure she’ll be willing to talk if you offer to listen.”

“I don’t understand why she didn’t come to us?” Teresa sniffled and quickly wiped away the tears that fell down from her eyes. “Or at least to Aris…”

“Are you dating him?” The question was out before he could stop himself. The morbidity of his own dreams chased him all the way here and when presented an opening, he struck. Teresa stiffened a bit.

“It’s fine if you do,” he assured her, although not really knowing why. Just about two weeks ago – hell, maybe even just one – it wouldn’t be okay at all. Aris had been his best friend and him suddenly dating his ex-girlfriend was tacky and sounding like from a bad movie.

But now, somehow, he didn’t feel like being angry over it. It was a simple question and he expected bitterness from the truth, because he was pretty obvious what the answer would be, but not anger.

“It’s not really… dating,” she answered quietly. He wasn’t sure what exactly to expect under such description – friends with benefits? Flirting? Going out but not living together?

“Just wondering if Rachel didn’t mind that,” he decided not to pry, since Teresa seemed rather fidgety, and focused back at the pale girl lying on the bed. “I always thought she had a crush on him.”

“On Aris?” Teresa blinked in surprise and then her face morphed into an honest panic. “You think…?”

“I don’t,” he shrugged and stepped away from the door, closer to where Teresa was sitting. “I haven’t talked to her for pretty long. Just from what I remember.”

She sobbed and another set of tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Hey,” he pulled another chair next to Teresa’s and sat down, gently patting her back. “She’s not dying, it’s fine. She’ll sleep it off. Just don’t let her drink any time soon, preferably. Only water.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled between sniffles and her body lost the stiffness, probably under the onslaught of exhaustion. The clock showed a little past 3 in the morning and Thomas alone felt rather tired, and he lazed around the whole day. “Thanks, Tom.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled, and it was easier than he expected. When she rested her head on his shoulder, the familiarity was so striking he didn’t even find it odd and only lowered himself until she had been comfortable, and circled his arm around her shoulders.

“I was mad you didn’t even bother to call,” she said suddenly and Thomas hummed. “I moved out and you played dead.”

“I did,” he whispered. “Easier that way.”

“Sometimes you’re seriously the worst possible person to love, _ever_ ,” she commented in an exasperated voice. “Most of the time you’re the sweetest and then you drop a bomb like that and it’s over.”

“Am I that difficult?” he tilted his head to the side, her hair tickling his cheek, and he more felt than saw her shrug.

“Well, you’re quite simple, Tom,” she pointed out sleepily. “You’re easy to please, you do everything you can for others. But you run from problems all the time. At least the ones that evolves around your personal life.”

That stung a little, but it was a simple fact and Thomas faced it over and over again lately, so he couldn’t say anything against it.

“But you’re lovable,” she moved and turned to him with a small smile. “And I’ve enjoyed us together a lot. I don’t want you to think I did not. To leave was the hardest decision I’ve ever did, but I had to change something or we would just burn out.”

“I know,” he nodded slightly. “I know you did. And I know we would.”

“You’re not mad then?” her eyes were searching and he could drown in them if he gave in. It was so easy – Teresa was his first true love and he couldn’t just forget about it all. Nor he even wanted to.

“Not mad,” he responded slowly. “I had been, of course. But more at myself than at you, so…”

“I see,” she piped. “I-“

A light knocking interrupted her and they both turned towards the door in a silent question, until they opened and Thomas blinked, when he realized he had been looking at Newt in between then, probably more surprised than Thomas himself.

“Newt?”

“Sorry,” the blond let out, his eyes skimming from Thomas to Teresa and for a while it seemed like he looked her over in more detail before backing out. “Wrong room.”

Then the door shut closed again and Thomas had a feeling if somebody hit him right now, he would shatter to million pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Misunderstandings and other overused tropes ensues.
> 
> Edit: to the anon from tumblr with the idea of Newt getting sick and dying - I have plans for a minor plot twist, but it definitely doesn't involve Newt dying. Thank you though, the idea was pretty interesting ^^


	21. Bless the small miracles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What!”  
> “Good job, you picked on like… tenth call,” Thomas didn’t let himself to be phased by the angry response, since he sort of expected it. “Where are you?”  
> “Home,” the blond growled and Thomas heard a car passing behind him. There was a distinct sound of rain as well and Thomas rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.  
> “Doesn’t sound like home,” he responded mildly. “Go back, Newt, it’s late.”

“Somebody you know?”

“Yes.”

Thomas stood up, his mind reeling. It was three in the morning, what the hell was Newt thinking he was doing here? Which, fine, never mind, so maybe he couldn’t sleep and decided to stop by – that kid was sometimes too spontaneous so he did these kinds of stupid things – but his goddamn timing sucked for sure. He could almost hear what he thought when he walked on them, it was like a bad movie. Thomas sitting close with his ex in a dimly lit room, of course he thought what he probably did, and Thomas wanted to scream in frustration.

Seriously, who the hell was writing his life in such miserable patterns? He deserved a punch for sure.

“Are you in trouble?” Teresa asked and Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I think so,” he mumbled unhappily and took a deep breath. “I’ll catch up with him. You staying here?”

“If it’s okay,” she nodded and offered a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he hesitated, and then gently touched her shoulder. “Use the second bed if you get sleepy. The blanket and pillow should be in the wardrobe in the back.”

She nodded and then abruptly stood up as well, so she could hug him tightly for several seconds, then let go.

“Thank you for everything, Tom.”

He managed to nod and left the room quietly. There was this bittersweet feeling he felt like challenging to _who run the fastest_.

***

Thomas wasn’t entirely surprised he didn’t find Newt in the hallway, waiting for him to come out like an obedient dog. If he did, Thomas would probably consider him a doppelganger or something. But he still walked through it just in case and when he didn’t find him, he returned to the reception desk and pulled out his phone.

“That blond kid, he left already?” he asked the nurse behind the counter and she nodded without even looking up.

“Seemed in hurry,” she just said.

“Of course he did,” Thomas mumbled to himself and dialled Newt’s number with a sigh. His life was seriously a set of never ending fuckups. He waited for a while but Newt didn’t pick up, naturally, so he sent him a text with _where are you?_ And waited for the worse (although there were so many possibilities for _worse_ he still didn’t know what to expect).

When even in half an hour no response came, Thomas decided to be annoying and started calling him over and over again, because this was fucking _ridiculous_ , especially when he did nothing wrong.

“What!”

“Good job, you picked on like… tenth call,” Thomas didn’t let himself to be phased by the angry response, since he sort of expected it. “Where are you?”

“Home,” the blond growled and Thomas heard a car passing behind him. There was a distinct sound of rain as well and Thomas rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.

“Doesn’t sound like home,” he responded mildly. “Go back, Newt, it’s late.”

“No worries,” it sounded like he was spitting venom at him and Thomas stopped in the middle of the empty hallway to take a deep breath. “Won’t interrupt you there anymore.”

“Listen, boyo,” he scratched his head while trying to find the right words. It was delicate with Newt, since he usually blurted out something stupid and made it worse. “I dunno what you’re exactly imagining that happened – although I had a faint idea – but nothing did.”

“Sure,” an annoyingly stubborn response Thomas wanted to smack him for.

“It was my ex,” he decided to spill it and immediately heard how Newt’s breath hitched. “She got there with a drunk friend. Well, more like already alcohol poisoned friend, so we had to take care of her.”

No response.

“At that point we also talked, since it was the first time we saw each other after the break up,” he continued quietly. “Think she’s dating my best friend, but she was pretty vague about it, so whatever. But no hard feelings, which is good. Also no smooching, no remembering the old times and definitely no cheating.”

He heard Newt sighing and another car passed him.    

“Newt,” he tried one more time and earned a hum.

“I hear you,” the blond responded quietly. “I do.”

“So where are you now?”

“Just a block from the hospital,” came a reply. “I… don’t know if I should come back or go home.”

“Well,” Thomas’ lips curled up in a smile. “I would be happy if you go to sleep to be honest. But… if you want to stop by, I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Is that so.”

“Or just go home, wait few hours and I’ll be back,” he offered softly. “It’s pretty late.”

“What, so you can smooch your ex?” there was humour in Newt’s voice now and Thomas smirked. “Don’t think I didn’t notice she had your shirt.”

“How do you know it was my shirt specifically?” he tilted his head to the side. “It could have been anyone’s shirt.”

“I know that one though, so tough luck,” a precise jab and Thomas heard footsteps, probably how Newt started walking. “How much longer until your shift ends?”

“Three hours,” Thomas glanced at his watch and leaned against the wall. “Time flies.”

“Okay,” with that Newt simply hung up. Thomas mutely stared at the phone for several seconds before rolling his eyes and hiding it back into his pocket.

_Somebody should teach that brat some manners._

***

“What the…?”

“You’re slow,” Newt greeted him with arms crossed on his chest, leaning against the counter at the reception, and Thomas wondered if it would be too daring to go and smack him over his head right the moment.

He was _drenched_. It was like freaking Deja Vu.

“Are you joking?” he walked to him in several long, sure strides and couldn’t believe his eyes. He was just in jeans and shirt with light jacket on and everything had been wet through and through.

“No, you’re seriously slow,” Newt shrugged, but there was a sheepish look in his eyes, so he knew what Thomas had been so horrified about.

“For fuck’s sake, are you out of your mind?” Thomas growled and the nurse behind the counter stopped reading her magazine and eyed them suspiciously. “You feel like you haven’t been sick enough or what the hell, Newt?”

“It’s just water…” the blond shrugged and Thomas’ patience ran thin. He grabbed the boy by his wrist and pulled him to the corridor leading to the changing room.

Unreal! It was like Newt didn’t even think of consequences or something – waltzing through the city like this, without at least an umbrella that would shield him, getting drenched like he jumped to the pool.

The locker room was thankfully empty, so Thomas pushed the boy to the back where shower stalls were and dragged the jacket off his shoulders. The water had been dripping from it like he just washed it and the rest of the clothes weren’t much better.

“Strip and take a shower,” he pointed at the stall with a frown. “I can’t believe you actually did this.”

“You said you wouldn’t mind if I stopped by,” Newt opposed with offended tone and Thomas wanted to shake some sense to him. Instead he pulled at the wet shirt and hissed when Newt smacked his hands. “Oi.”

“Newt, you gotta get warm,” Thomas groaned. “Don’t make this difficult. If I knew you were running here in the rain without umbrella, I’d send you straight home.”

“Just hand me a towel, drama queen,” Newt rolled his eyes. “No big deal.”

It was probably slight overreaction, but when Thomas grabbed the towel, he threw it at the blond instead of handing it to him and pointed at him threateningly.

“Stay here,” he uttered dryly and left the locker room like a tidal wave.

***

“So how did it go?”

“Badly,” Thomas didn’t even stop in his stride back to the reception when Teresa suddenly caught up with him. ”I think I’m going to kill him if he won’t do it himself sooner.”

“Ow,” she voiced out in sympathy. “What happened?”

“He’s an idiot, that happened,” he grumbled and stopped at the reception for about hundredth of time today. The nurse behind it looked somewhat pissed off already and he didn’t really blame her. “Sorry, I’m leaving now, can you please write it to the attendance that I’ll work those three hours back up another day? Emergency issues.”

She didn’t say anything, but wrote something down so Thomas considered it yes and _fuck you_ in one gesture.

“Leaving?” Teresa was following him when he backed away from the counter again to his previous destination.

“Need to take him home,” he sighed. “I swear that kid is going to be a death of me.”

“Wait, is it the one you took the job as a caretaker for?” she quickened her pace so she would catch up with him and Thomas shortly nodded. She didn’t need to know the job already finished and this was a result of a very different kind of relationship.

“He’s healthy for a little while and already trying to get himself into the same mess as before,” he complained unhappily. “I dunno what else to do with him except of handcuffing him at home so he can’t leave.”

“He looked young,” she pointed out. “It’s just puberty.”

“I’ll show him puberty,” he hissed and finally arrived to the locker room. There he stopped, took a deep breath and reached for the handle, but hesitated. Then looked at his companion. “We are leaving in a few, want to drive somewhere? I think they will keep Rachel here at least one more day for observation, so…”

“Oh,” she seemed to contemplate it a bit, but then nodded. “Okay then. If you don’t mind.”

“Give me a few then,” he said quietly and opened the door. Newt was staring back at him from the middle of the room, his hair tousled how he was apparently trying to dry them off with the towel, and he looked probably in the same mood as Thomas felt.

“We are going home,” Thomas informed him sternly.

“You said your shift ends in three hours,” Newt opposed coldly and Thomas walked to his locker so he could change. He was already tired as hell and it wasn’t just because he didn’t sleep. His nerves were working overtime and he hated it.

“It does,” he uttered, pulling his shirt off and throwing it at Newt. “But not in case of this one idiot thinking rain and ten degrees outside won’t do anything to his body. At least wear this before you change at home.”

“I’m not made of sugar,” Newt barked at him while stubbornly tossing the shirt on the bench next to him. “And stop calling me an idiot!”

“Sorry, but you lawfully earned it,” Thomas stripped his pants and reached for his jeans, the anger inside of him rising. “Don’t tell me you actually thought it’s alright for you to roam the streets in this weather?”

Newt hissed and avoided his eyes.

“Take the shirt, Newt. C’mon,” Thomas urged him tiredly. “Do at least this for me.”

No real change, but after several more seconds Newt actually reached for the discarded garment and pulled his own wet shirt off.

“I wasn’t planning on roaming the streets,” he pouted while changing and Thomas had to avoid his eyes from all the hickeys he left there. “I just wanted to see you.”

Thomas took a breath to continue with the complaining, but deflated in a second when he glanced back at him, standing there all abandoned and wet and miserable. Damn this kid – how was he supposed to stay mad when he looked like somebody stole his favourite toy?

“And you overlooked the massive raining catastrophe in that need?” he sighed in defeat and Newt shook his head. “So why you ran out without an umbrella?”

“I had an umbrella,” Newt mumbled.

“By the state of your clothes I highly doubt that…”

“I left it on the reception,” surprising news made Thomas blink in confusion. “When I… well. I just left in a hurry, let’s say.”

“Dude,” Thomas groaned and banged his head against the locker. “I don’t even know what to say. Ever heard of _assuming is bad_?”

“Yes, but I also heard _old love never dies._ ”

“Let’s just stop talking about it,” Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose and finished changing. “And go home.”

“Mhm.”

He closed the locker and gestured towards Newt to come, so the blond moved and left the room first, just to stop at the door like somebody froze him there, staring at Teresa who was staring back at him.

In Thomas’ shirt.

Hell, both of them were in his shirts, this was almost ridiculously awkward.

“Um, hi,” she tried to act natural, but Thomas had seen she wasn’t sure what exactly _natural_ meant around the blond. “Guess we got both caught up in the rain?”

Newt looked her over again, like he was analysing her, and sent Thomas an unhappy look, all without an answer. Thomas really should have smacked him over his head soon.

“Don’t mind him,” he told her with a sigh. “Wounded pride. Shall we go?”

“Yes please,” she looked relieved and Newt, on the other hand, rather ruffled by the revelation Teresa was tagging along. Thomas expected him to say something or act stubborn, but the boy just followed them outside of the hospital in silence.

_Bless the small miracles._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Well, Thomas is probably going to punch me soon, so nice to meet you all ;)


	22. Cardinal Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is he always like that?” she looked at Thomas instead and he felt the cold sweat breaking on his forehead.  
> “Don’t drag me into this,” he pleaded her quietly. “I have enough on my plate as it is.”  
> “No no, I want to hear that – am I always like that?” Newt sat closer and Thomas knew this was going to be a rough ride.

If looks could kill, Thomas would probably be already dead, with a huge, gaping hole in the back of his head. Every time he glanced into the back mirror, he saw Newt glaring at him from the back seat, his hair still damp and face unhappy, and he slowly came to realize offering Teresa a ride was probably not one his brightest ideas, when it came to mending his current relationship.

It was more of a habit, really, to offer such thing. He didn’t even think of it being inappropriate, since he was driving her all the time when they were together, so it just seemed like a normal thing to do. But now, with her sitting next to him and Newt trying to silently kill him he saw he made a cardinal mistake.

Or maybe just a minor one, corrected easily later, but hell if it didn’t make him fidget on the spot like a guilty child at the moment.

“I still can’t wrap my head around Rachel,” Teresa suddenly spoke, apparently uncomfortable with the silence as well. There was a radio playing quietly, but it didn’t help the atmosphere a bit.

“Maybe she just got really festive,” he answered, grateful she decided to prevent creating a vacuum in the car. “And didn’t think of what she drank.”

“I mean more the fact she may be crushing on Aris,” Teresa opposed and Thomas took back his gratefulness. Talking about relationships _now_ with Newt listening, that was definitely a bad, bad thing.

“Ah,” he voiced out lamely. It wasn’t his favourite topic either, since Teresa and Aris were close to being a thing and as much as Thomas felt like being over the break up, it still stirred him up unpleasantly.

“I mean, if I had known…” she sighed and glanced out of the window to the dark city. “I’d never… you know.”

“Yeah, sure,” came from the back with a snort and Thomas almost groaned. Newt just had to spit something there, hadn’t he. They were almost at the destination Teresa gave him (surprisingly not Aris’ place, but her parents’), he couldn’t hold it few more minutes?

“I’m sorry?” she turned around to face the blond and Thomas wanted to bang his head against the wheel.

_Please don’t argue, please don’t argue._

He saw Newt shrug, apparently not keen on conversing more, and felt relief washing over him. Teresa was a mean arguer, he knew that from experience, and Newt, on the other hand, was stubborn and insidious when he wanted to. If they clashed, the car would probably explode. Or Thomas’ head.

“Is he always like that?” she looked at Thomas instead and he felt the cold sweat breaking on his forehead.

“Don’t drag me into this,” he pleaded her quietly. “I have enough on my plate as it is.”

“No no, I want to hear that – am I always like that?” Newt sat closer and Thomas knew this was going to be a rough ride.

“No, not really,” he mumbled, feeling Teresa’s analysing stare on him from the side. She was usually pretty sharp, he wondered if she knew – or had a hunch – what was going on between them. He kind of hoped she did not.

“Not really,” Newt repeated, but it was aimed at Teresa, since she finally focused back at the blond and Thomas sighed in relief. “Must be you then.”

_Fuck._

“Oh?” she tilted her head to the side and Thomas almost heard the war horns starting to blare. “Pray to tell why?”

“I had to deal with him when you dumped his sorry arse,” Newt uttered coldly (Thomas whined maybe too loud). “And it wasn’t pretty. Kinda makes me want to be rude to you all the time. Probably a reflex, since I’m allergic to bullshit.”

“Newt,” Thomas groaned in desperate voice. “Please.”

“Well, she asked,” the blond shrugged and pulled back from the front seats as if he closed the debate (Thomas really hoped he did).

Teresa sat properly as well, but Thomas expected her to react somehow soon. He could almost hear the wheels in her head turning and it made him grip the wheel tighter as if it could help him somehow to prevent it.

It wasn’t a necessarily true he was taking the break up _that_ badly – yes, he was depressed and probably more pissy than normally, but he kind of doubted he vented it on Newt in some horrible way. Or at least he hoped he did not…

“Just so you know,” she spoke up again as Thomas expected her to. “I had to deal with him giving up on the relationship as well and it wasn’t pretty either. I moved out because I didn’t see any other way how to show him he went too far.”

Now she was looking at him, her eyes a little tired, and Thomas refused to return the look and kept his eyes glued to the road. He got what he did wrong, but he didn’t need to hear it again, slapping him over his head like a dead, smelly fish.

“Great tactic,” Newt’s voice almost dripped with venom, making Thomas cringe. “I almost feel sorry for you.”

“What’s your problem?” she turned back to the blond and there was annoyance in her voice. “Why am I on your damn shit list? You literally just met me!”

“Hopefully for the last time,” Newt was merciless and Thomas felt like crying. Why did he offer her again to ride with them? Mistake, what a fucking, huge, cardinal mistake.

“Are you crushing on Tom or something?”

And there it was. Thomas held his breath, mentally pleading Newt to tell her to stuff it or something and not acting territorial like he was just doing all this time, because it was the last fucking thing she needed to know about them. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust her to be civil about it, but if it was solely on him, he would rather keep it quiet for a tad longer, just in case.

“Crushing?” Newt snorted and all hope Thomas had vanished with that tone. “We are dating.”

_Fuck._

If he could, he would close his eyes so he couldn’t see even by the corner of his eye how Teresa stiffened, then looked at Thomas as if he grew another head – or maybe the whole set of them – and kept on staring.

“I see,” she said flatly and kept quiet for the rest of the ride (which lasted approximately 2 minutes and 21 seconds, Thomas counted, because it felt like he was sitting on a heated griddle and every second was like an hour). He told her bye when she opened the door of the car, and she looked at him with a weird expression, thanked him for the drive and disappeared inside of the house.

Thomas never felt lamer. He sat there, staring at the spot where she stood just a second ago, and contemplated his life choices – which seemed pretty bad for now. Sometimes it was like he needed a goddamn guide to _how to live properly_ , because he just couldn’t get it right no matter how hard he tried.

His thoughts were interrupted when Newt suddenly started to crawl from the backseat to the front as if he didn’t know how the doors work, since they were still standing on the same spot and Thomas couldn’t bring himself to start up the engine again. Once he got seated properly, he let out a long sigh and Thomas could tell he was looking at him.

“Are you mad I told her?” he asked quietly, his rude attitude gone.

“Not really,” Thomas replied and leaned his forehead against the wheel. “But I’m not happy either.”

“You wanted to keep it secret?” it surprisingly didn’t sound attacking, more like a simple inquiry, and Thomas shook his head.

“No.”

“So what’s the problem?” he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and flinched, so it disappeared again. He could almost see Newt’s hurt expression, but closed his eyes instead.

Why did it bother him so much? It wasn’t like Teresa’s opinion was going to change anything. Or whatever she was going to think about him now. Yet somehow he felt bothered and couldn’t point a finger at it. It was there and it was annoying him immensely and all he wanted was for this day to be over.

“I’m tired,” he said and straightened back up, so he could start the car. Newt only silently nodded and they left the parking lot only under tunes of _Can you hold me_ and disappeared in the night.

***

“Do you even want to be with me?”

“What?” they were in the hallway, Newt just unlocked his door, but didn’t go in, instead of it turned to Thomas with big, unsure eyes, and if it didn’t break Thomas’ heart a bit, then nothing ever could.

“Do you?” the blond insisted. “Because I saw how you looked at her and if you don’t-,”

“Are you mad?” Thomas interrupted him with a groan. “Stop it right there. That’s just stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Newt whispered. “I’ve seen you two. It’s not.”

“Newt,” Thomas took a deep breath, his mind tired and body heavy. “I’m fucking tired right now to deal with this shit. But I do want to be with you, so don’t ever question it.”

Newt watched him quietly for a moment, then nodded and entered his flat. Thomas didn’t have the strength to go after him, so he closed the door behind him and climbed the stairs to his own home.

He couldn’t find the desired rest for another two hours, haunted by Newt’s question mercilessly.

_So, so tired._

***

It was his phone what woke him up. The clock showed little after 2 in the afternoon and he didn’t even look who was calling when he picked up.

“Yeah?” he yawned, checking the weather outside. It was dark, but seemed like it wasn’t raining at least.

“Hi!” a known voice greeted him, but he couldn’t label it anyhow for a moment. “Sonja, if you forgot.”

“Oh,” her voice immediately clicked right and he dragged himself to the sitting position. His whole body hurt like he slept on a pile of rocks the whole night (or the fragment of it) and when he tried to stretch, it popped in him several times with an embarrassing loudness. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to ask how are things,” he could imagine her shrugging on the other side of the line. “And all. Newt is not answering his phone, _again_ , so I guess his grudge is still ongoing.”

“What grudge?” he laughed a little and crawled out of the bed. His stomach grumbled hungrily and his throat was parched like desert, and he kind of wanted a good cup of coffee.

“That I went abroad,” she answered simply. “He won’t admit it, but he needs somebody close to him or he gets all depressed, and it’s difficult to him to open up to somebody new, so he was pissed when I left.”

“Ah,” he scratched his head and abandoned from the coffee making. It was so weird yesterday he knew he had lot of things to mend, so might as well start with that while telling Newt about his sister’s call and all. If he wouldn’t get kicked out of the flat right away, that is.

“So how are things?” she asked while Thomas grabbed his keys and left the flat in a slow pace. “Is he getting better?”

“He’s pretty much fine,” he said while unlocking Newt’s doors. It was quiet there and Thomas wondered if Newt was still asleep. “Got a green light for going out, so he doesn’t’ really need me anymore.”

“Really?!” Sonja exclaimed happily. “That’s great! Why didn’t he at least text me, that little brat?”

“You know Newt,” Thomas grinned and stopped in the empty living room for a moment to take it all in. It was a terrible mess there and he made a mental note to whip Newt to do something about it – he was not his maid after all. He reached the bedroom door and peeked inside, just to find the blond in the bed, sleeping.

“Sure I do, he’s terrible with keeping in touch,” she sighed in defeat and Thomas walked to the bed where he crouched and gently raked through Newt’s hair, just to stop mid move.

“I’ll call you later,” he managed to get out and before Sonja could say anything, he hung up and tossed the phone on the bed, touching Newt’s forehead quickly.

He was fucking _burning_ and Thomas’ blood ran cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Needless drama 2.0 with upgrade.


	23. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not a family member, Thomas.”  
> “I’m his caretaker!”  
> “According to the file you’re not even that anymore, I’m sorry.”  
> “You can’t possibly mean it, doctor. Let me see him.”  
> “No. End of discussion. Go home, get some sleep.”

“They are not going to let me see him!”

“Thomas, calm down,” Brenda put her hands on Thomas’ shoulders to still him, but it was useless. He couldn’t stop shaking, his whole body was like in a spasm and there was no way to calm down – not until he was sure Newt was alright – as much as he could be with the deadly fever and devious coughing that made Thomas panic the moment he heard it in the car. He couldn’t possibly rouse him from the sleep the whole way – only for a slight moment before he left the flat with Newt in his arms, at that point the blond seemed aware what was going on, but could barely talk – only held to Thomas tighter before losing consciousness again.

When they arrived to the hospital, Thomas was on board of hysterical and it was probably the only luck Brenda had been there to calm him down before he hit doctor Janson in the face for not letting him inside of the room.

_“You’re not a family member, Thomas.”_

_“I’m his caretaker!”_

_“According to the file you’re not even that anymore, I’m sorry.”_

_“You can’t possibly mean it, doctor. Let me see him.”_

_“No. End of discussion. Go home, get some sleep.”_

“How am I supposed to calm down?!” he barked at her. “I have no idea what’s wrong with him and he won’t fucking let me see him!”

“They are doing what they can right now,” her voice was soothing, but somehow kept on missing the bundle of his nerves. He should have stayed with him when they got home. He should have slept over in his flat, because they needed to talk anyway and because Thomas could do something sooner than he did now. Because Newt needed him and Thomas let him down. Because-

“God, and stop with the self-blame, it’s hurting my brain just to watch you,” she pulled at his wrist and his body finally gave in and followed her to the nurse room. Several other nurses had been there, chatting, and they thankfully only spared a glance before returning to their business.

Brenda pushed Thomas in one of the empty seats and sat next to him with a heavy sigh. He expected a speech about this _not being his fault_ or something equal to it, but when she kept quiet and just watched him like she was trying to take him apart, he hid his face in his hands and stayed like that.

“I should have been stricter,” he mumbled after a moment. “When he came here at night drenched from the rain, I shouldn’t have let him to go away with just the dry shirt, no matter what he said.”

“Then it’s probably just a vicious cold,” Brenda responded. “And I already told you that you’re too soft on him. There is your result.”

He was grateful she didn’t try to coax him, although it stung terribly. He did nothing else but messing up since they started dating, on all fields he could. This was like deadly karma punching him back, but instead of punishing him personally, it just made it worse and attacked the person he loved – and there was _nothing_ Thomas could do. Nothing he could do to help him or make it slightly better. He got separated from him and it just hurt so much, this helplessness and despair, and the more he thought of how scared Newt had to be there, surrounded by doctors and machines that beeped like it was his last hour, the more he wanted to break the door just to get to him.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Brenda interrupted his flow of thoughts sternly. “Just wait. I will tell you once they are done. I’m sure Janson will let you there once it’s safe.”

“That waiting period is killing me,” he mumbled. The inner shudder inside of him didn’t want to stop. 

“I know,” Brenda offered a calming touch on the top of his head. “But you can’t do anything for him now. Leave it to the doctor.”

It was probably the worst thing she could tell him to do.

***

Thomas wasn’t sure how many hours passed since he brought unconscious Newt to the hospital and begged for help. Brenda let him stay in the nurse room and the usual chatter inside kind of helped for him to focus on something else than the inability to help. For a long period of time he played with his phone, his finger hovering above Sonja’s number, but every time he closed the contacts and put the phone on the table, watching it silently. He knew he should have called her – it was her brother, she had to know. But then again what if Newt really only caught a common cold that only made it look bad but wasn’t anything life threatening and he would rile her up needlessly like last time?

So he didn’t call her in the end because he couldn’t bring himself to tell her he fucked up badly and Newt was here because Thomas had been a careless dick that toyed with the boy’s feelings like on a rollercoaster.

_Do you even want to be with me?_

Why did he just shrug it away? It should have been a red light blaring inside of his head, it should have told him to go to the same flat with Newt and show him he wanted to, he craved to, that he dominated his heart like it was no challenge and Thomas didn’t understand _how_ he managed to do that after so short and with so many personal flaws (because let’s be honest, Newt wasn’t perfect and if somebody gave Thomas Newt’s personality description, he would tell them _that guy must be an eyesore_ and would never want to get involved with somebody so stubborn, so sarcastic, so possessive and making hasty assumptions). Yet here he was, scared shitless Newt was suffering, scared shitless Newt blamed him for it, scared like never before that once the kid got better he would tell Thomas to stuff it and break up with him because he only brought him bad luck.

Thomas had a bad feeling that if it would really happen, he would simply crumble like a house of cards. He wanted to be there for him. He wanted to be everything Newt would require or need or desire. He wanted so much it almost physically pained him to be apart.

“Dude, I heard what happened,” a voice dragged him back to reality – with clock showing eight in the evening and sun slowly losing its strength outside of the window. Winston was standing next to him, his face a pure mask of worry and Thomas felt his eyes stinging with an evident effort not to cry, as if it simply all crashed on him like an avalanche.

“You need anything?”

“Info,” Thomas blurted out. “I need to know what’s wrong with him. They won’t let me inside.”

Winston seemed taken back for a moment, but then nodded and patted him on his shoulder.

“Got it, man,” he said. “I’ll sniff it out.”

Thomas hummed and rubbed his eyes to stop the tears from rolling out. It was a heroic effort.

***

“They moved him to ICU,” Thomas choked and Winston sat closer to him, lowering his voice into a whisper.   It was an half an hour later and the hope for _only a cold_ dispersed into thin air. “There is some sort of infection in his lungs and on top of that it’s a bad case of pneumonia.”

“Again?!” Thomas’ head shot up, eyes wide. “But…”

“He’s sedated and stable though,” Winston seemed apologetic for some reason. “I don’t know anything else. But they’re watching him, so…”

“Is it bad?” Thomas asked with a shaky voice, his heart almost stopping with that information, and Winston scratched his head.

“I don’t think it’s life threatening,” he tried quietly. “But it’s not the best either so…”

“They won’t let me go there,” Thomas concluded tiredly and Winston nodded with a sad expression.

“At least not yet, man,” he tried to comfort him. “Maybe tomorrow. And we will know more by then as well.”

“Thank you,” Thomas whispered, his mind reeling. Pneumonia? For fuck’s sake, that was the worst thing that could happen! For a moment anger gripped him when he remembered finding Newt in the bed in his shirt and the same pants he had on in the hospital. That little brat didn’t even change, he just fell asleep in half wet clothes and apparently made it even worse, and Thomas hated himself for not going home with him even more now.

He could have fucking prevent it. He could have caught it in time.

There was this moment two days ago where he thought Newt had slight fever, the day they spent night together, but he let it go off his mind – but if he took Winston’s offer and stayed home for the night shift, if he wasn’t such a bloody workaholic and decided to spend the whole day with his boyfriend, he could have noticed it sooner. And no rain would occur and no meet-the-ex moment would follow and no argument would be created.

But no. Thomas and his work. Always messing things up.

“Hey,” Winston’s tapped his shoulder lightly. “Don’t beat yourself over it. He’s going to be fine, you hear? Go home and get some sleep, would you?”

Thomas refused to go anywhere.

***

“Thomas.”

He jerked awake, almost falling from the chair on which he was until now sitting, with his head buried in his hoodie he used as a pillow on the table, just to stare at Brenda fully clothed in her civil clothes and with a bag slung over her shoulder.

“You leaving?” he asked, his voice rough and little sleepy, and she nodded slightly.

“How about you get some proper sleep home?” she offered, sounding worried. He must have looked terrible if even she got like that. “You can’t do anything for him now.”

“I want to stay,” he refused. “I will just sleep in a free room or somewhere.”

“It’s very likely they won’t let you there even tomorrow,” she said softly. “He’s in ICU.”

He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Winston told him, but she didn’t know and he refused to give his colleague away. He thought knowing would mentally prepare him for her telling him basically the same thing, but he still felt like crying when she repeated the grave information.

“And?”

“They implemented the artificial feeding probe, among other things,” it was apparent she was hesitant to tell him, but Thomas was grateful she did. “One is to his heart as well. The infection in his lungs is ugly, the coughing is making him weaker than he already is. They’re contemplating putting him into sleep induced coma for few days so his body would recover a little.”

“Are you joking?” he couldn’t believe his ears. If he was weak, he must have sleep by his own anyway, why would they want to put him into that without proper cause? That was insane!

“He keeps on trying to get the tube for breathing out,” she glanced behind her as if she was afraid somebody was listening. “Misbehaves a lot. Refuses to listen to the doctors. He keeps…”

“Keeps?” he stared at her with a frown. Was Newt making it worse by fighting things that would help? Yes, he knew, those probes and tubes were annoying and pretty sure also painful when they were implementing them, but he had to already know it was for his own good. He already lived through it once.

Brenda took a deep breath and adjusted her bag.

“Asking for you,” she finished her speech quietly. “So that’s why they want him in the sleep induced coma for a while. If he keeps it up, he will make it worse.”

Thomas felt the sob fighting its way up his throat and he was too tired to resist it. Brenda put the bag on the table and hugged him and it was probably the last straw that kept him from letting the fear, the pain and the helplessness out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> About two months ago my grandmother had been in a hospital with this case Newt is suffering from right now. I remember the absolute helplessness and fear, and when we got to see her, it was like punch in a gut and I had dunno where I took the strenght for not crying in front of her.
> 
> But! She got out of it and is fine and dandy today, so miracles happen :)


	24. Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not as much better if he’s here,” she assumed with more serious voice. “Where is he?”  
> “ICU,” he mumbled unhappily. “I brought him here yesterday afternoon and they won’t let me see him.”  
> “They?”  
> “Doctor Janson,” Thomas named him without shame, because that guy was a serious dickhead most of the time and it was probably a revenge for the geezer insult Newt landed on him before. “Said I’m not a family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unhappy things ensues, you have been warned.

It was probably ironic, but the only free space for sleeping was in Rachel’s room. Thomas didn’t expect her to be still in the hospital, but when he opened the door and found her still in the bed, pale and sickly looking, he kind of understood why they still kept her here.

“Thomas?” she stared at him with wide eyes and he had to admit he probably looked disastrous right now – with puffy eyes and tousled hair. The clock showed something past eleven in the evening and Thomas felt exhausted to the point of falling asleep while standing.

“Hey,” he greeted her tiredly and walked towards the free bed. His body kept on shivering and he wasn’t sure if because of cold or because his nerves were ruffled like hell. Probably both, he assumed. “Thought they let you out already.”

“Not really,” Rachel eyed him warily and he wasn’t sure why. Because of Teresa, probably? But not dating her didn’t mean unable to talk to their mutual friends, right? “The doctor said they want to keep me here for a bit longer. Something about the blood image not looking good.”

“I see,” he drawled and cocooned himself in a blanket. It didn’t help the shivering in the slightest. “Had Teresa been here today?”

“Yeah,” a quiet response. “For a bit.”

“She brought you here in the first place,” he said. “In a terrible state.”

“She mentioned,” he heard bitterness in Rachel’s voice and wondered if it was, after all, truth about her and Aris. “I’m not going to hear the end of it for years ahead.”

“Probably,” he nodded. Teresa knew how to hold a grudge or use information at convenient time. “But she kind of saved your life, you know.”

“I thought you’d be angry at her,” Rachel changed topic briskly and Thomas understood she didn’t want to talk about the night at all.

 _Fair enough_.

“Cuz she broke up with me?” he looked at her blankly and she made an agreeing noise in the back of her throat. “Nah. Not anymore.”

“You forget quickly,” it kind of sounded like an admonition, but he was too tired to get offended by it.

“I know why it didn’t work and I don’t really blame her for leaving,” he shrugged. His head hurt a bit. “So I don’t think holding a grudge would help me.”

Rachel didn’t say anything in response, only avoided his eyes and stared at the TV playing at the opposite wall. Its volume was so low she probably couldn’t even hear it. It made him nod off slightly, his exhausted mind taking a shelter in the background noise.

“You have a shift today?” she suddenly asked and it jerked Thomas awake again. For a while he was disoriented before he realized where he had been and with whom. “I suppose you’re not here for the old time sake as a guardian.”

“No, I’m not,” he agreed with a slight frown. It wasn’t him who severed all contacts so why did she sound like he did? “I’m waiting for one of the patients.”

“For release?” she tilted her head to the side and Thomas shook his head. _Wishful thinking, releasing him instead of torturing him with all the probes and sedatives._

“He got here today. It’s bad. I want to see him but they won’t let me yet,” he mumbled, the painful reminder of Newt’s state burning his throat.

“Why so much care?” she asked him and Thomas kind of guessed she knew what was going on. Teresa must have told her, or at least hinted, and Rachel hid it very poorly.

“I care about people I love,” he responded quietly. “You don’t need to pretend Teresa didn’t tell you.”

“She mentioned,” the girl admitted with a shrug. “Thought she said that only to make herself feel better you didn’t come back running like a dog when she dumped you.”

“You see, if there is something you want to say to somebody, you gotta, or they won’t take a hint,” he told her a little too sternly. “Cuz if you don’t, somebody else is going to do it instead and you have no right to be angry about it anymore, because you chickened out.”

“I don’t understand your aim,” she glared at him, meaning she understood very well, and Thomas only turned on his other side, facing the wall instead, and fell asleep.

***

There were voices filling the room and it was probably the raising intensity of them that made him wake up into a bright day. He felt like the headache was going to split his head in two, his eyes were burning, and he had a bitter taste in his mouth.

There were several doctors surrounding Rachel’s bed, commenting on her state, and Thomas quickly looked at his watch to realize he had been sleeping until 6 AM in a relative constant dose, and yet felt like something chew him and spit him out.

“Good morning, Thomas,” a known voice greeted him and he blinked owlishly at Ava Paige looking at him with a small smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Miss Paige,” he sat up, little embarrassed for his dishevelled state. “Sorry for this.”

“It’s alright,” she assured him simply. “Did something happen? Rare to see you in such state.”

“Waiting for one of the patient to become available to visit,” he crawled out of the bed, his legs protesting. His whole body wanted to rest a bit more but his head refused to, not when there was a chance they’d let him inside of the ICU today.

“Oh?” she turned towards him fully. The rest of the group didn’t pay them any mind and Thomas was glad for it. It must have been enough seeing him sleeping here. “A relative?”

“Not… really,” he rubbed his eyes. “I’ve used to be his caretaker, but… he got better, so technically I’m not anymore.”

“Not as much better if he’s here,” she assumed with more serious voice. “Where is he?”

“ICU,” he mumbled unhappily. “I brought him here yesterday afternoon and they won’t let me see him.”

“They?”

“Doctor Janson,” Thomas named him without shame, because that guy was a serious dickhead most of the time and it was probably a revenge for the _geezer_ insult Newt landed on him before. “Said I’m not a family.”

“Janson?” she glanced back and one from the crowd moved, revealing Janson had been there the whole time, but apparently not paying them any of his attention.

“Ava?” he walked to her with a raised eyebrow and then noticed Thomas there and gave him a firm nod. Thomas wondered if he knew he had been spending night here and had some wicked pleasure from it, or if it came as a surprise. Maybe he just thought Thomas had been a stubborn idiot.

“The patient on ICU-,”

“Newt,” Thomas quickly supplied.

“-Newt,” she repeated calmly. “Any reason why Thomas can’t see him?”

“He’s on ICU,” Janson responded a little taken back. “Any unnecessary visits would only trouble him.”

“I take it Thomas is _not_ an unnecessary visit to that boy,” Ava replied rather coldly. “So apart of that assumption, any other reason why he can’t see him?”

Thomas kind of wanted him to use the family argument again, so he could see Ava slay him without a blink, but Janson was smart and kept his mouth shut.

“I take it there is none,” she concluded and focused back at Thomas with a smile. “How about you go take the necessary garments, Thomas, and come with us?”

He probably never ran faster in his life.

***

The ICU was a sterile, disinfection smelling room that was filled with beeping machines, several beds with curtains and the lingering atmosphere of despair. Thomas hated it there with passion – he had seen many patients here and none of them were pretty. The fact he was going to see Newt in the same state was making his chest hurt and breath quicken and the more they were progressing towards the bed near the window, the less he felt like he could make it without breaking down.

Then he stopped and his heart probably along with him.

Newt looked so damn _small_ in that bed. So vulnerable and weak and desperate and Thomas had to take a deep, calming breath. Tears stung in his eyes and he wasn’t sure how good was he going to be at holding them back.

Newt was asleep, his arms full of cannulas and bruises. His thin, bare frame under the blanket seemed sickly and weak, and his skin was almost transparent. Thomas could see where the probes were leading, and his whole body shivered at the thought how _painful_ it had to be for him to endure all of this.

“Thomas?” Ava’s voice interrupted his complete shock and he took him a shuddering breath before looking at her. “Are you alright?”

“No,” he replied honestly. “No, I don’t think I am.”

“We are going to wake him, you sure you want to be here?” she squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture and he nodded quickly. He wasn’t sure _how_ he was going to make it, but he was determined to show the boy his support and much, much more.

The nurses were already gently shaking him until the deep, brown eyes blinked tiredly at the world, focusing at the people in front of him, and Thomas had seen how hazed and tired he had been he barely kept awake.

“How do you feel?” one of the nurses was just asking. Thomas was grateful they removed the big, unpleasant breathing tube and gave him only the small ones. It must have been much better, and probably safer, when he kept on trying to get it out from his throat as Brenda said.

“Bad,” he heard the blond saying and almost let out a sob. “Can I… see him… now?”

“See who, darling?” other nurse leaned to him to adjust the cannulas and Newt hissed unhappily at it. “The doctor?”

“Tommy,” the one word fell from Newt’s lips almost like a plea and Thomas’ body moved on its own, stepping close to the bed immediately and reaching for Newt’s hand, squeezing it gently. Newt’s head moved a little to the side and when the blond spotted him, his eyes widened and he started to move as if he wanted to sit up.

“You’re… here!”

“Stay still, boyo,” Thomas helped the nurses to still him and as much as Newt seemed like he was against it, he finally relaxed again and the machine behind him started beeping loudly. It was such a heart breaking sight Thomas was on verge of collapsing. “I’m here.”

“I was scared,” Newt’s voice was rough and barely hearable. “I was so scared…”

“I know, love, I know,” Thomas nodded frantically, his voice trembling and the tears threatening to spill out. Newt was trying to squeeze his hand back, but the pressure was so weak it almost felt like nothing. It was tearing Thomas’ heart apart. He gently ruffled the tousled blond hair and immediately spotted the fever that kept on ruled over Newt’s body.

“I thought I was going to die…” the blond voiced out and Thomas almost choked.

“You’re not going to die,” he whispered to him. “They’ll take care of you. I won’t let them hurt you here.”

“You… promise?” Newt’s voice was weaker and weaker by each passing minute and couldn’t hold the tears anymore. Even when he tried to quickly wipe them away, they kept on rolling down from his eyes. It almost seemed like Newt didn’t even notice.

“I promise, you know I do,” he blabbered shakily. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Will you… stay here?” another weak question and Thomas more felt than saw doctor Janson approaching, ready to cast him out again. He didn’t blame him as much now, he knew the boy needed to sleep more, and yet he wasn’t ready to leave.

“I’ll come visit as often as they’ll let me,” he assured him. “Okay?”

“Stay here,” the blond pleaded him. “Please, Tommy, please.”

“Thomas,” Janson’s voice sounded like a warning and Thomas glanced at him with a small nod. He couldn’t make it worse by being stubborn, even though he really wanted to tell him to fuck off and curl around Newt like a protective ward.

“…I know,” he said with hesitation. “I know.”

“No,” Newt’s voice was a little stronger when Thomas tried to let go. “Don’t go…”

“I’ll be back in few hours,” he kissed the top of his head and Newt whined. “Please be good. They won’t let me stay longer.”

“No,” the blond repeated. “ _Please_.”

It was so desperate Thomas would probably sign a contract with devil himself if he let him stay longer. There was no way he would leave him when he begged like this – no way would it be even humane to do so. The kid was so fragile, so scared that telling him he couldn’t be there for him when he needed him most was like committing all seven sins at once and then some.

“I can’t leave him,” Thomas looked back at Janson with desperate eyes. “I can’t possibly-,”

“You have to,” the doctor was resolute. “He’s weak as it is. Let him rest.”

He wasn’t sure how the nurses made it, but they managed to drive him off in the end. When the doors closed behind him again, locking him out, he broke down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> This chapter was a pain to write.


	25. Brick Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You look like shit, man,” Aris spoke up, finally getting his spooked expression under control and Thomas found it slightly hilarious. Did he expect him to beat him up or something? Because that was how it seemed to Thomas from their initial reaction. “When was the last time you slept?”  
> “Or showered?” Teresa added with a cringe and started searching in her bag.  
> “I don’t even know,” he uttered. He wanted to tell them to stuff it and leave him but somehow he couldn’t get it pass his lips. “Probably yesterday. Or the day before. Or something.”

“Mate, go home already.”

“No,” Thomas barked out, agitated, and paced again from one end of the hallway to another. Winston had been watching him with worry about half an hour already, and Thomas didn’t care about what others said, he was _not_ leaving. Not only the visit left him almost hysterical, but another talk with Janson pushed about all his rage buttons at once.

_“This is the exact reason why I didn’t want you to go there,” Janson glared at him half an hour later when Thomas had been sitting in front of the ICU, his mind shaken. “He’s livid now, he keeps on fighting the nurses because you’re not there. At this point he won’t get better if he spends so much energy on making a fuss, and that’s all because of you couldn’t wait a day or two more.”_

_“Fuck you,” Thomas growled at him. “Seriously, just shut up. You have no idea-,”_

_“I have a perfect idea, thank you very much,” the doctor didn’t even move a brow at Thomas’ insulting language and Thomas kind of thought it was because he was used to people being rude to him, because he was such a dickhead. “And it’s your fight now to live with the knowledge you put him into the sleep induced coma, so deal with it.”_

_“What…?” Thomas stared at him in shock. “It’s not needed, why would you even force that on him?!”_

_“Do you have any idea how weak is he?” Janson let out a long, exasperated sigh. “His immune system is bad and the infection is spreading the more he refuses the treatment and rest. Which is exactly what he does now, because you had to play a hero.”_

_“Look, if you just let me stay there-,”_

_“This is an ICU, Thomas. Means no place for goddamn visits,” Janson interrupted him sternly. “He needs rest. Not you.”_

Thomas knew he should have listened to the doctor, but every word Janson said was pissing him off. No matter how long passed, the conversation was still vivid in his mind and when Thomas kept on replaying it in his head and got to the part with _he doesn’t need you_ , he felt like going to find the man and punch him square in the face.

“I thought he said he won’t let you in for a while,” Winston was close to catching one punch as well. “So why would you stay here and be miserable? Go home. Take a shower. Eat. Sleep. Come tomorrow.”

“If your girlfriend had been here, in this state, would you listen to me telling you these exact words?” Thomas stopped to glare at him and Winston opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then he shook his head.

“Probably not.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Thomas uttered coldly. “So stop nagging me for it.”

“Okay, okay,” his colleague raised his hands to the air and returned to his work instead, which Thomas considered the wisest decision he could make.

He didn’t need to go home. He had no business there anyway, no reason to dwell in a place where nothing mattered. Newt was here and he wanted Thomas to be here as well, and even though Janson was an asshole and refused to let him visit the blond more, he still felt better to stay at least in the vicinity, if anything happened.

Like that fucking sleep induced coma. What a stupid idea! If Janson just let him be there, it would soothe Newt’s nerves, he was sure of it. It would let him sleep, because he hated to sleep alone and Thomas didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable and abandoned, no matter how many nurses or other patients were around.

“Oh, hey.”

He stopped, his eyes immediately focusing at Teresa’s lithe form in front of him and Aris trailing behind her like a lost puppy, and it took him a moment before he realized they were here because of Rachel and not to make his life even more miserable than it already was.

“Hey,” he greeted her back – or them, even though Aris looked rather surprised – and his voice sounded rough and maybe slightly attacking. He couldn’t get rid of the bad mood Janson put him into and their presence definitely didn’t help.

“You look like shit, man,” Aris spoke up, finally getting his spooked expression under control and Thomas found it slightly hilarious. Did he expect him to beat him up or something? Because that was how it seemed to Thomas from their initial reaction. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Or showered?” Teresa added with a cringe and started searching in her bag.

“I don’t even know,” he uttered. He wanted to tell them to stuff it and leave him but somehow he couldn’t get it pass his lips. “Probably yesterday. Or the day before. Or something.”

Teresa eyed him warily and then pulled out the shirt he gave her on the rainy day, clean and ironed and ridiculously perfectly folded.

“Might come in handy now,” she commented while eyeing him over. He had been in the same clothes for too long and felt like the shower would be a nice addition, but his mind wouldn’t let him to be out of the possible information flow for too long. “Did something happen?”

“Newt is here,” he mumbled while taking the shirt. It just flew out of him for some reason – he didn’t even want to tell them. They didn’t need to know. Yet it suddenly hung in between them and he couldn’t take it back. “It’s bad.”

She seemed surprised and then her expression softened.

“Sorry,” she told him quietly. “They won’t let you visit him?”

“No,” he shook his head and crossed his arms on his chest – he wasn’t sure as if to defend himself or because he simply didn’t know what to do with his hands, but it still seemed rather protective, even to him. “He’s in ICU.”

She quietly nodded and stepped closer so she could gently touch his arm. It was surprising for her to show support so openly after what happened in the car, but he found himself appreciating anyway.

“Just give it time,” she said. “He’ll get better, I’m sure.”

He nodded, although time was something he hated to be reminded of. Waiting. Endless, painful waiting.

“Sorry about the scene in the car,” he blurted and she took a deep breath. “He’s… pissy, sometimes. He didn’t mean it.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him. It probably was, now, so the apology came rather late, but it was still better than never. “Can’t blame him for marking his territory, eh?”

“Please don’t start,” a small laugh escaped his lips and it felt good. His mind lifted from the darkness a little and his body relaxed. When he looked at her again, she was smiling back and Aris behind her kept on shuffling nervously, and Thomas found it funny. He expected more bitterness from meeting them both at the same time, but nothing much came. Maybe because his mind was already too occupied – possibly – but it still came as a surprise.

“Rachel is in the same room as before,” he nodded towards the hallway. “Seems she’s going to stay a day or two more. Bad blood image.”

“Thanks,” Teresa nodded gratefully. “Good luck to you and Newt. If you need to talk, feel free to hit me up, you know the drill.”

“Sure I do,” he stepped away so they could continue in their way and smirked when Aris bowed his head a little when passing him. He kind of wondered if Aris felt guilty or awkward around him now, but as much as it was curious, he didn’t really have the mood to ask him about it, or talk in general.

“Who’s Newt?” he heard Aris saying in the distance when they were walking through the hallway with Teresa, and sighed.

“Thomas’ protégé,” she replied and he could almost see her shrugging at it. When Aris hummed in understanding, Thomas was kind of glad she kept their relationship secret from him. At least for now.

***

Hospital showers were always a bit too white, a bit too uncomfortable and reminded him of suffering for some reason. Even the blessed feeling of hot water easing off the muscles wasn’t enough to shake the feeling of despair hanging in the air and he was glad when he got out again and could change into cleaner clothes than his own had been.

_Maybe I really should stop at home. Get some clothes at least._

He sat down on the bench in the locker room and stared somewhere in front of him. He asked Brenda and Winston to keep him updated, but neither of them couldn’t give him any proper news for too long, not even if Janson was a dick and put Newt into the sleep state already. They tried to mingle through the ICU staff, but got backed out too soon to know anything concrete.

If there was at least a way how to sneak past the door for a while. If he could just sit there next to the bed – it would be enough. If he had to bath in disinfection for it, he so would, just to be able to spend a little more time with Newt.

He stood up, feeling the exhaustion clinging to him uncomfortably, and glanced at his watch. It was past six in the evening, the official visits were over about everywhere, and he felt somewhat like a failure today. Like he wasted the day without fight and it was the most awful emotion he could get.

He shook his head unhappily and left the locker room in a slow pace. He knew Brenda had the night shift today and he sort of hoped she would be at least able to lift his mind off things when Winston left.

“Here you are!” he felt a grip on his arm and then Brenda was there next to him, handing him the hospital garb and the mask. “I was searching for you everywhere! Come on, let’s go!”

“Are we going to Newt?” he stared at her in shock but immediately started to put clothes on, his hands shaking. “How did you do that?”

“I didn’t as much,” she responded quietly and kept on dragging him through the hallway, towards the elevator. “But I was on the right place at the right time, so there is a good chance for you to move things a bit.”

“What do you mean?” he didn’t understand her at all, but followed anyway and when they boarded the elevator, she started impatiently pressing the 7th floor button until the door closed.

“His grandparents are here,” she informed him in a serious voice. “As a family they got an exception to go there, even after the visiting hours, and you were the main topic they talked about.”

“Me?” he blinked in surprise and she nodded.

“As you already know, Newt is kinda demanding when he wants to,” there was slight humour in her voice. “And they started to wonder who _Tommy_ is.”

“Oh.”

Newt’s grandparents? Come to think of it, Thomas didn’t even know, except of Sonja, of who Newt’s family consisted of. He had a feeling he read his parents were deceased, so that would leave the grandparents as the closest option, but why did he live alone? He never actually asked and now it started to nag him a little.

What did he know about the boy anyway? Except of his personality traits and his obvious love for blueberry pies there wasn’t much else outside of his bubble.

“You got pretty pale,” Brenda nudged him with her elbow. “Scared?”

“I… guess?” he admitted, although fear probably hadn’t been the main thing coursing through him now. For one – he was about to see Newt, hopefully, so there was joy and nervousness at the same time. But the main obstacle were the grandparents he had to go through and somehow he felt like it wasn’t going to be the bed of roses (or maybe yes, but with thorns).

She patted him in comfort and the elevator finally stopped with an unpleasant lurch, and the door opened. She led him through the corridor to the ICU doors, rang and the barrier immediately opened as if they were expected.

Which they probably were, judging from two people standing in the middle of the hallway, looking so out of place it was like a punch. They were both older, with silvery hair and rather stern expression, and he didn’t blame them since it was about their grandson being in a hospital again.

Brenda led him through the quiet place to them and Thomas sensed a morituri te salutant moment approaching with a lightning speed. The elderly couple watched them until they stood in front of them and Brenda finally let go of his arm with a gentle squeeze, as if she wanted to assure him she was there for him if anything happened.

“I take it you’re _Tommy_?” the old man seized him in a calculating stare and Thomas’ throat immediately dried. He managed to nod.

The woman gave a luxury vibe for some reason, with a fluffy coat and perfect hair, and golden jewellery boldly on display. He thought she was maybe around 50, but looked somewhat younger.

She was the first who moved and pulled the mask Thomas put on already down, so she could see his face. Then her expression grew serious.

“Who are you to our grandson, boy?” she asked and Thomas felt his blood run cold.

Maybe he’d prefer to bark at each other with Janson instead of going through this brick wall after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Wild grandparents appeared!


	26. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “An unfortunate turn of events,” he said quietly, just to sum it up. He didn’t want to bother them with everything, especially not with Newt’s reckless rain adventure. “I’m sorry I didn’t prevent it.”  
> “This one seems nicer than that Alby guy,” the grandmother pointed out and Thomas wasn’t sure what it was supposed to mean. A previous caretaker? Newt had one before? It wasn’t in his file. “How old are you, Tommy?”

“I’ve used to be his caretaker.”

It was stupid and kind of cowardly, but it was the first thing that came to his mind in defence under the looks of both of the elderly people. It felt like he was being judged, only the small court hammer was missing.

“Sonja said something about that,” the woman glanced at her spouse. She seemed to let go of her stony face, but the grandfather stubbornly kept the visage of an executioner.

“Well, consider the situation you did a very poor job then,” the man didn’t even look at her, his eyes kept on trying to murder Thomas on the spot. So far they didn’t, but he thought given enough time it would bear fruit soon. He already felt like getting smaller in front of them with each word.

“He did a wonderful job, actually,” Brenda entered the conversation with a professional smile she used on troubling patients. He always thought it was a brilliant skill she had. “Your grandson got pretty much well enough to leave the flat and live a normal life, therefore the contract got aborted. Thomas fulfilled his end of bargain as requested.”

He _hated_ when people talked about it this way. Fulfilled his end of bargain – a similar words Newt used when they argued and they still rang in Thomas head with deadly accuracy. It was clinical and impersonal and their relationship was anything but. They got along well enough to dismiss the _only business_ claim, and even though at the end of the _contract_ it had been rather wild, Thomas still thought they did really good. Definitely not the simple caretaker-patient thing as Brenda made them believe. But it was probably wiser to present it that way, at least to them.

“So what happened?” the grandfather, a tall, tough looking man with beard and silver hair stared Thomas down like a judge. “Why is he here? In this state? The doctor said there is an infection and pneumonia, I don’t think that’s _a wonderful job_.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t take care of yourself,” Brenda uttered and it almost sounded attacking. Thomas quickly shook his head and squeezed her hand to stop her. Yes, Newt added to it a lot, with the rain and thoroughly depreciating attitude towards the outside world (with clothes that didn’t offer enough protection mainly, just begging for the cold to find him), but it wasn’t only his fault either and Thomas hated to admit he was a part of his miserable state now. If he could man up a bit more, to stop the frightened rabbit tendencies to run from every problem, maybe they wouldn’t even be here.

“An unfortunate turn of events,” he said quietly, just to sum it up. He didn’t want to bother them with everything, especially not with Newt’s reckless rain adventure. “I’m sorry I didn’t prevent it.”

“This one seems nicer than that Alby guy,” the grandmother pointed out and Thomas wasn’t sure what it was supposed to mean. A previous caretaker? Newt had one before? It wasn’t in his file. “How old are you, _Tommy_?”

He forced down the cringe under the nickname – he didn’t like it from about anyone except of Newt (because Newt said it with completely different meaning and Thomas almost considered it a pet name, like _darling_ or _love_ , so he didn’t mind it at all, no matter how weird it was). It seemed like they belittled him somehow and he wasn’t a kid anymore, nor somebody who couldn’t take care of himself in most of the situations.

“Twenty two,” he replied truthfully.

“Five years is not that much,” she commented, looking back at her husband, and the man frowned even more.

“It’s a lot,” he protested and Thomas was a little lost in their quarrel. Why would it matter?

“He already has some common sense, he could keep Newt grounded a little,” she argued with her husband sternly and then Thomas understood.

They _knew_.

They were pretty much aware that Thomas was involved with their grandson, that he wasn’t just his caretaker, but his lover, and he wasn’t sure if it was supposed to make him scared shitless or relieved they took it this way. He noticed Brenda smirking at him but trying to poorly hide it and frowned at her.

“He looks like he can’t even tie his own shoelaces,” the man retorted and at that point Brenda barked out a laugh.

“Sorry, but… would you mind if I go see him before you sort out if I’m good enough or not?” he risked being bold and they thankfully didn’t say a word and let him go through. He considered it a small miracle and was glad when Brenda followed him without a word.

***

The lights were already dimmed in the ICU, and the whole area was quiet, interrupted only with beeping of machines and occasional coughing from patients. Thomas didn’t even hesitate when he entered and walked straight towards Newt’s bed with blond lying on it, breathing rather heavily. He didn’t look much better from the last time Thomas had seen him but he seemed calmer and when Thomas reached for his hand, he stirred awake and Thomas thanked God they still didn’t put him into the sleep induced coma how Janson threatened him with.

“Hey there,” he greeted him softly and Newt’s eyes scanned him for a while, like he was trying to recognize him. Maybe they strengthened the medication? It could make him rather hazed and unable to concentrate.

“Are you a hallucination again?” Newt asked after a while, his voice raspy and weak, and Thomas blinked in surprise.

“Not really,” he whispered. “You want me to be?”

“Not really,” came a reply and Newt’s lips curled up in an exhausted smile. “I was… afraid you won’t come here anymore.”

“I told you I would,” Thomas responded gently and squeezed his hand as a sign of his presence. Newt squeezed him back, although it was still weak. “Met your oldies by the way.”

“Ugh,” Newt groaned. “I hoped they were… hallucinations too.”

“They looked pretty real to me,” Thomas chuckled and raked through Newt’s hair slowly. The boy followed the movement like a cat and Thomas wanted to hug him so badly it was almost impossible to drown that urge.

“Were they… mean? To you?” a weird question followed and Thomas considered it the heavy medication talking for the most of it. He gently kissed his forehead through the mask and made a disagreeing noise.

“They were fine,” he said calmly. It wasn’t even lying – they were mostly alright, not really that attacking or rude or calling him bad names for dating their grandson, which was pretty good already. He wasn’t sure _how_ they found out, but it was probably Newt talking that revealed the issue. “They apparently found out we are dating.”

“I see,” Newt tried to move, but the machine started beeping again, so Thomas pushed him back down. “I want to leave.”

“I know you do,” Thomas nodded in understanding. All the cannulas and probes were an eerie reminder of how bad it was with the blond and Thomas tried not to think about it. “And you will but you have to be a good boy and stop refusing the treatment.”

“’m not,” Newt mumbled, his eyes deliberately closing. “But they’re… mean.”

“They’re going to be mean if you struggle,” Thomas reminded him, albeit hesitantly. _Tough love_ , as Sonja said. It usually worked. “And if you struggle, they won’t let me here.”

“I don’t want that…” Newt whined. “I want you to… stay.”

“So be nice and rest a lot,” Thomas immediately seized the opportunity. “You know what I told you about sleeping being the best-,”

“-healing factor,” Newt finished the sentence with a low chuckle. “Ye.”

There were doors opening and Thomas quickly glanced to the exit, just to see Newt’s grandparents entering the room in the hospital garb as well. Brenda was still waiting for him at the door like a guard and he wasn’t sure if their presence meant his time was up or if they just wanted to join the conversation.

He kind of feared of the outcome though.

“Hm?” Newt’s voice made him look back at the boy. “The… doctor?”

“Nah,” he smiled at him, resuming the gentle raking through his hair. “Your oldies, actually.”

“I feel… tired. Suddenly…” the blond deadpanned and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh that immediately made him cough. The noise was ugly, wet and deep, like a badly starting car, and the machine resumed the angry beeping as well. It apparently made his grandparents to quicken their pace because suddenly they were standing next to him and the grandmother was reaching for Newt’s arm in a consoling gesture.

“My poor baby,” she said with a sad expression. “Why these things always happen to you?”

It was a good question, Thomas thought, but wasn’t bold enough to react on it anyhow. Newt’s hand squeezed him a little harder for a while and Thomas raised it to his mask-covered lips and kissed it.

“Thomas,” Brenda’s voice made him glance back again and she looked alarmed. “Janson is coming.”

“Crap,” he mumbled and turned back to Newt. “I’ll come tomorrow again, okay?”

“You… leaving? Already?” Newt looked so miserable it made Thomas’ heart broke into million pieces. “But…”

“I’ll stay longer once you get better,” he assured him. “In this case the doctor really doesn’t like me here.”

“I don’t like… him here either,” Newt rasped with a small frown and Thomas petted him once more. Before he could say more, the doors opened again and Janson was already there, cleaning his throat like a high level of threat he could do and Thomas only with huge amount of dissatisfaction turned to him.

“I think we already had the talk, Thomas,” the doctor crossed his arms on his chest. “Or are you deliberately trying to make him worse?”

“Worse by what?” the grandmother spoke with a cold tone. “By being here?”

“He’s making him distraught,” Janson uttered. “Not to mention it’s already past visiting time. You’re allowed here only because you’re family.”

“He’s family as well,” the grandfather’s voice boomed through the room. “If you didn’t notice, _doctor_.”

Thomas almost choked on that notion, but somehow managed to keep the face through Janson’s shock that perfectly showed on him, until the doctor only nodded curtly and left the room again with _I give you ten minutes_.

It was Newt who made a noise first – it sounded like a snort, but with coughing mixed in it, and it returned Thomas to reality pretty fast. His grandmother was gently patting his arm and grandfather silently stood at his legs like a guardian.

“Um,” Thomas looked up at the older man. “Thanks.”

“I’m watching you,” the man pointed at him with a narrowed eyes and the grandmother batted that hand away with an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t mind him, Tommy,” she focused back at Thomas and her expression was much warmer than only few moments ago. “He likes to play it tough.”

“He’s a weirdo...” Newt added to the conversation and Thomas barked out a laugh. “Don’t pay… him much of your attention.”

Thomas found it actually hilarious and it had been the first time through Newt’s hospitalization since he could feel the sincere joy engulfing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Oh yeah, families :)


	27. Good News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The nurses told me to try cough out the phlegm,” Newt pointed at his chest and Thomas made a face.  
> “Nasty.”  
> “Eh, but you still love me, right?” Newt teased him with a grin. “Even with the slime and all.”  
> “You’re disgusting,” Thomas buried his face in between Newt’s neck and shoulder. He smelled of disinfection but at least not like death anymore. “I can’t believe I’m still coming here.”  
> “There, there,” a gentle pat on his head made him smile. “You’re coming here cuz you’re a nice person.”  
> “I’m coming here because your grandfather would find me and made two of me if I ditched you,” Thomas mumbled into his skin. “God help me.”

“Winston, can you-,”

“Sure, dude, go on,” Winston shrugged with a smile and took Thomas’ file without delay. It had been a week since Newt’s hospitalization and Thomas resumed his working schedule with lighter heart, as well as home residing without worrying he would miss something important. He kept on visiting the blond when he was allowed (and when Janson didn’t make a face at it, or was blissfully not at work) and spent there as long as he could. When he was at the hospital and the pace wasn’t as maddening, he asked a colleague to take it for him for a bit and disappeared to the ICU.

With Winston and Brenda he rarely needed to ask anymore.

Newt’s condition improved over the week and even Janson had to admit there wasn’t really a reason why to keep Thomas out of there anymore, so he only glared when they occasionally met in the hallway, or in the room itself, and no words had been exchanged.

Newt’s grandparents visited every day as well and Thomas wondered where they were staying at. What he caught from the conversations they apparently lived outside of the state, somewhere in Europe, so they either booked a hotel or they had an apartment maybe which they used when visiting their grandchildren. When he asked them about it, they just told him _not to worry_ and that was end of the discussion (mostly because Newt’s grandfather gave him _the look_ and that was enough).

“Hey, handsome,” he greeted his blond boyfriend right from the door, happy he saw him sitting on the bed while eating a yogurt. He had a white hospital garb on and his hair was tousled like he never met a comb, but otherwise looked so much better Thomas wouldn’t believe it was the same boy from the week ago.

“Hey, stranger,” Newt greeted him back, smiling widely and reached for his hand right the moment Thomas got closer. His grip was strong already, and colour healthier and most of the cannulas were gone as well, leaving only nasty bruises in their wake. They removed the feeding probe as well a day ago and Thomas rather didn’t ask about it, since Newt seemed rather shaken for a while. Now he had been eating by himself and only occasionally coughed with the same, unhappy sound of the badly starting car that kept on clinging to him.

“How are you feeling?” Thomas asked, settling next to the bed comfortably, and Newt put the empty can on the table so he could grab Thomas by his shoulder and peck him soundly on his lips, making Thomas laugh. “’Good, I take it.”

“Bearable,” the blond shrugged. “Would be better home.”

“Yeah, it would,” Thomas agreed softly. “Just a bit more. They almost got rid of the infection, which is good.”

“The nurses told me to try cough out the phlegm,” Newt pointed at his chest and Thomas made a face.

“Nasty.”

“Eh, but you still love me, right?” Newt teased him with a grin. “Even with the slime and all.”

“You’re disgusting,” Thomas buried his face in between Newt’s neck and shoulder. He smelled of disinfection but at least not like death anymore. “I can’t believe I’m still coming here.”

“There, there,” a gentle pat on his head made him smile. “You’re coming here cuz you’re a nice person.”

“I’m coming here because your grandfather would find me and made two of me if I ditched you,” Thomas mumbled into his skin. “God help me.”

“Sounds like him,” Newt chuckled. His hands were slowly traveling from Thomas’ shoulders to his back and then gripped him by his arms. “You have no idea how badly I want to leave this place.”

“I have a pretty good idea about that,” Thomas opposed and gently kissed Newt’s neck, earning an appraising hum, then he stood up straight again, making Newt’s hands slide lower to his wrists. “The food is terrible here.”

“The food is really the least of my worries,” Newt rolled his eyes and Thomas wondered if he even ate properly. He had been even thinner than normally and Thomas hated it. “The bed is pretty good though.”

“Is it now?” Thomas tried the mattress with his hand and it seemed pretty bouncy.

“Imagine having sex on it,” Newt added like it was completely normal and Thomas groaned.

“That’s what had been on your mind all this time? You have no shame,” he batted his hands away and Newt only grinned at him.

“Sorry, I’m imprisoned here with sick people and unappealing nurses; can you blame me looking forward to your visits?” Newt pointed out with fake seriousness. “The first thing once I get out of this hellhole is getting you on your back.”

“Unbelievable,” Thomas shook his head. “I’m a man, Newt. A man. I have feelings. I need to be appreciated, not seen as a sex object. You wound me.”

“Tough luck,” the blond shrugged, apparently not feeling any remorse or shame at all. And quite frankly neither did Thomas. He was just so damn happy Newt had been feeling good, since this talk was a perfect proof of his condition.

“Dirty minded succubus,” he faked an exasperated sigh, but when Newt offered his hand again, Thomas took it without hesitation, intertwining their fingers together.

“You at work today?” the blond asked suddenly and Thomas nodded. “How much time you have left?”

“Winston is covering for me,” Thomas glanced at the clock, noting he had been gone for half an hour already. “Another half an hour should be fine.”

“Brenda not here today?”

“She has a free weekend,” he shrugged. “What, you want her here rather than me?”

“I need some gossip, you gotta understand,” Newt waved his free hand. “About all of this. You tell me nothing, because you’re too nice to gather what people say. But she knows things, Tommy. She so does.”

“Oh no,” Thomas groaned. “Don’t team up on me with her.”

“Too late,” Newt squeezed his hand stronger and Thomas couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or if Brenda was really coming here by herself and talked to him about random stuff, since she never mentioned.

“But no,” Newt pulled on Thomas’ hand, urging him closer. “I don’t want her here rather than you.”

“Good,” Thomas let out. “Because in the opposite case I’d have to ask for divorce.”

“At what point of my stay here we got married?” Newt raised an eyebrow. “And where is my ring? Because seriously, I’m not a material kind of person, but the ring is a must, Tommy. A must.”

_Fuck, he’s so adorable I want to eat him up._

There was no way Thomas would be able to give this up, ever. Just the short time he had to spend with Newt over the week made him realize how much he missed him, despite the quarrels they had and misunderstandings and all other kinds of situations their stubbornness brought them to. He missed him so dearly that he almost couldn’t sleep at night how much he was looking forward to another opportunity to visit the blond, just to hear him if nothing else, and it was maddening and intense and he never lived through something like this before.

He wanted before, of course. He loved, he desired. But not in this crazy degree and it was almost bizarre for how fast he came in terms with it. And how much he refused to give it up, no matter what kind of obstacle would life throw at them.

“I love you so much,” he blurted out stupidly and Newt stopped mid word, staring at him with wide eyes. He looked caught up, like he didn’t expect Thomas to say it this openly, and even Thomas was a little taken back by the honesty that poured out of him.

“I heard I’m going to be moved soon from ICU,” Newt finally spoke up and Thomas couldn’t stop staring. A room? Moving? Why…? “Possibly to another floor. Private room.”

“Okay…?” Thomas let out in confusion and Newt took a deep, apparently calming breath.

“I really, really need a private room,” he added, almost sounding like a whine. “You just couldn’t wait few more days before telling me this… could you.”

“Ah,” Thomas felt the heat rising in his face before it all clicked together. “Sorry.”

There was a gentle touch on the back of his neck and then Newt was pulling him forward so he could hug him tightly. He was soft and thin and Thomas felt like he needed to protect him from everything.

“I want to kiss you so much,” he heard the blond saying. “You have no idea. Telling me you love me like this, I’m ready to explode, for real.”

“That would be some bad germs for you,” Thomas managed to say, his lips curling up in a smile. “And we don’t want that.”

“I want that,” Newt opposed. “All your germs, for fuck’s sake. This is so unfair.”

“Gotta be satisfied with the phlegm, love,” Thomas chuckled and earned a pinch to his side.

“Now who is disgusting here,” the blond complained. “Weirdo.”

“Mhm.”

“I love you too,” he heard a whisper and it warmed him up inside like thousands of fires. “And I will love you more if you cured me right now. Can you do that?”

“Sadly, no,” Thomas slowly pulled away, earning a disagreeing noise from his boyfriend. “But you’re doing good. Just give it a little more time.”

“Did I tell you I’m a pretty impatient person?” Newt chimed unhappily.

“Pretty that you definitely are,” Thomas teased him with a smirk and Newt pulled at his hair. Thomas would swear he saw his cheeks going red before the boy hid his face in Thomas’s shirt. He glanced at the clock, noting the time was up, and kissed the top of Newt’s head.

“Gotta go now,” he said softly. “But I will stop by again after the end of the shift, okay?”

“You better,” he heard the muffled answer. “I’m going to suffer alone until then.”

“You’re not suffering.”

“I’m a little suffering.”

“You little baby,” Thomas grinned and Newt finally pulled away, pouting terribly. “Eat a bit more. I’ll see you at six.”

A small nod and Thomas was satisfied. He couldn’t wait till his shift was over.

***

“Anything happened while I was gone?”

“Not as much,” Winston glanced up from the drawer and then pointed at the counter where a piece of paper with a phone number laid. “Except of Paige wanting to talk to you.”

“Oh,” Thomas grabbed the paper with a frown. “Am I in trouble?”

“Nah,” Winston stood up and put the file he was apparently searching for on the desk. “I told her where you are and she seemed to understand. She’s alright, not like Janson and his army of ICU zombies.”

“Nicely put,” Thomas smirked and Winston nodded towards the phone, so he decided to use it instead of his cell. “Thanks, man.”

“Anytime, dude.”

Thomas stared at the number for a moment, wondering why would Ava Paige wanting him to call, but when no possible idea came to his mind, he dialled it and waited for the result with bated breath.

“Paige speaking?” she answered on third rang and Thomas stammered a greeting like a clumsy first grader. “Ah, Thomas, glad you called.”

“Sorry, I was at the ICU,” he gulped down, feeling a little guilty for ditching his work like that, and heard her laugh a little.

“It’s quite alright, I understand,” she assured him and it made him calmer. “It’s actually connected to what I wanted to ask you about.”

“Yes?”

“The caretaking business,” she continued and he heard cars passing her, so she was probably on her way home. “I take it that it had been concluded about two weeks ago?”

“Yeah,” he agreed in confusion. Why would she ask about it? Was there any trouble? “More or less, since Newt got a green light to leave the flat, so I wasn’t really needed anymore.”

“I see,” he could imagine her nod at it. “Well, apparently your patient is not really a careful one, if you don’t mind me putting it so bluntly. So I studied the file and talked to his grandparents, and thought we should re-apply the caretaking status for you two?”

“Really?” his eyes widened. There had to be a sign from the hospital for it to actually carry out and he was getting one right now? That was _awesome_! “That… yeah, I would… that would be really great, Miss Paige.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he almost heard the smile in her voice. “Let us finish the details tomorrow at work, how about that?”

“I’d be grateful for that,” he nodded enthusiastically and noticed Winston staring at him with worried expression. He showed him thumbs up and it seemed to be enough for him to relax again. “Tomorrow then.”

“Goodbye, Thomas.”

“Have a nice day, Miss Paige,” he responded happily and hung up with a long intake of breath.

“Dude,” Winston stared at him with a raised eyebrow. “Did she just raise your salary or something?”

”Just renewed the caretaking status,” he answered with a wide smile. It meant spending more time with Newt and less time in the hospital. It meant them being together because Thomas didn’t need to dance around the schedule somebody wrote for him anymore and that was _awesome_!

He couldn’t wait until he told Newt about it. Everything seemed to look better and better and he was crossing fingers for it to stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I had been watching a bit too much Ghostbusters II xD Anyway, yay for Newt being better!


	28. Bullseye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ”Come on,” the blond urged him. “Cuddles.”  
> “You call him Cuddles?” the grandfather raised an eyebrow, apparently losing the last ounce of respect for Thomas, and Newt rolled his eyes.  
> “I call him Tommy, pops,” he informed him simply. “Which, by the way, should be mine exclusively, so call him Thomas.”  
> “That wasn’t mean at all,” Thomas shook his head, but took his shoes off and climbed on the bed nevertheless. “Call me whatever you want, I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure Janson has some wicked pleasure out of it,” Thomas stated with a frown, trying to find Newt’s name in rosters. “He has to be doing this on purpose.”

“Found him!” Winston stabbed his finger victoriously into the paper and Thomas almost killed himself how he tried to scramble fast towards him, which made Brenda laugh like maniac. Thomas kind of suspected her she still had been slightly drunk, since she posted really cheery photos on Instagram very early in the morning and they were full of alcohol from the previous night.

“Fourth floor, room six, got it,” he read the destination with a relieved sigh and grabbed his bag. Janson gave him a small surprise today – he apparently released Newt from ICU and to the private room the blond told Thomas about before, but decided not to inform about anybody that could tell Thomas – so Brenda didn’t know, Winston had been clueless and the ICU nurses refused to talk to him more than for two seconds. So he had to search in rosters while cursing the doctor to hell and could easily imagine him laughing behind his desk with red wine in an obnoxiously big glass.

“Say hi to him for me,” Brenda waved him off, giggling like a school girl, and Thomas ruffled her already tousled hair in response before leaving.

He had two days off but he couldn’t wait for the clock reaching 2 PM so he could come visit Newt, and managed to clean up his whole flat just so the time would run faster. He even cooked, went to buy something sweet for the blond and visited Minho in the shop where he got a blissfully good coffee in exchange for news about his boyfriend’s state.

_“He has no phone with him all this time,” he excused Newt’s lack of contact these past two weeks. “They won’t allow that on ICU. But it should be fine once he moves to the normal room.”_

_“I hope so, I already felt like he dug himself a grave and hid in it,” Minho grumbled unhappily. “How is he?”_

_“Now it’s good already,” Thomas assured him with a smile. “He’s recovering fast, thankfully. Should be out soon.”_

_“Lock him up at home,” Minho said with the same lousy attitude. “Since he apparently can’t keep himself healthy for more than a stupid week.”_

_“That was just an unfortunate chain of events,” Thomas opposed, but Minho’s expression didn’t change, so he decided not to antagonize him further. He knew his friend had to be worried sick when Newt didn’t respond for so long and Thomas felt bad for not telling him sooner. But he was so out of it he barely managed to take care of his own ass from crumbling into a pit of despair._

He almost ran through the corridor, earning glares from the nurses along the way, but he didn’t care. Once he reached the room with number 6 on it, and Newt’s name, he took a deep breath and politely knocked before entering, even though he felt like jumping in without notice, just to surprise the blond.

In the end he was glad he _did_ knock, since when he opened the door, Newt was surrounded by his grandparents while munching on an apple, and they definitely wouldn’t be too excited about Thomas being rude and interrupting them like a caveman.

“Tommy!” Newt’s grandmother – Anna, actually, she even asked Thomas to call her that but he still called her _grandmother_ in his head, no matter how he tried not to – called him with a smile and Newt immediately made grabby hands towards him, letting out a satisfied sigh when Thomas stepped close and held his hand.

The room was small and there was a TV on the opposite side of the wall and Newt had been alone there, even though the room had a second bed available. His grandfather – Gordon by name, but Thomas was never going to call him that way, probably - was currently sitting on it, staring at Thomas like he was contemplating between kicking him out and tolerating him enough to let him stay, and Thomas seriously didn’t know what the man thought at any given time.

“Hi,” Thomas greeted them all happily and pecked Newt on his lips, making the blond hum in satisfaction at it. “Sorry for being late, Janson didn’t think it was important to inform me you had been moved.”

“Rude,” Newt commented while slicing another piece of an apple and then offering it to him. Thomas didn’t even hesitate and bit half of it. “We should pour glue into his shoes.”

“Very mature,” Thomas snorted and Newt suddenly moved away to the opposite side of the bed, patting the free spot next to him. There were no cannulas anymore, no beeping machines and Newt was virtually able to move everywhere, which Thomas understood after several seconds long search for any tubes he could accidentally sit on.

”Come on,” the blond urged him. “Cuddles.”

“You call him _Cuddles_?” the grandfather raised an eyebrow, apparently losing the last ounce of respect for Thomas, and Newt rolled his eyes.

“I call him Tommy, pops,” he informed him simply. “Which, by the way, should be mine exclusively, so call him Thomas.”

“That wasn’t mean at all,” Thomas shook his head, but took his shoes off and climbed on the bed nevertheless. “Call me whatever you want, I don’t mind.”

“He doesn’t mind,” Newt’s grandmother pointed out like it was a serious argument and Newt groaned. Thomas had to admit her calling him Tommy, or God forbid her husband calling him that, was rather strange, but after all this time he sort of got used to it.

Once he got comfortable enough, Newt’s arms circled his torso and he had a lap full of the boy, which felt like coming home. He squeezed him back and if it wasn’t ridiculous, he would say Newt purred like a satisfied cat.

“So about that visit we talked about?” his grandfather suddenly spoke up and Thomas flinched – he managed to forget about their presence in few seconds of having Newt this close and that was dangerous. He heard Newt hum, but otherwise the blond didn’t move away.

“It would do you good,” the grandmother added to it and Thomas raised an eyebrow. A visit? “Fresh air and all.”

“I told you it’s up to Tommy,” Newt mumbled into Thomas’ shirt, almost too muffled by it, and Thomas got seriously confused. He looked up at the grandmother with a silent question and she smiled at him.

“We thought about taking Newt to England,” she explained. “Would be better for him to speed up the recovery.”

“England?” he repeated and his heart started to hammer like crazy. Were they taking Newt away from him? After all this time? _No_!

“Calm down,” he heard Newt whispering to his ear softly. “You get a heart-attack otherwise. I’m not leaving without you.”

“Of course we wanted to ask you if you’d accompany him,” the grandmother continued and the grandfather huffed.

_Probably not of the same state of mind._

“Since the caretaking business is back on,” she continued, ignoring her husband profusely, and Newt’s grip got even stronger and snugglier. Thomas felt an immense need to kiss him like a drowning man, but it would definitely make the oldies reconsider the offer.

 _Oh, the offer_.

“Oh,” he let out and Newt nudged his neck with his nose, then dropped small kisses there and Thomas kind of wanted to give in. He just hoped it wasn’t too apparent for the grandparents, because the sense of shame that should have been there just didn’t come.

“It’s fine to say no,” Newt mumbled quietly. “I don’t mind not being under their surveillance like in a cell.”

“We’re not holding you there like a prisoner,” the grandfather immediately protested and crossed his arms on his chest. “You’re free to do what you want.”

“While you watch me like a pair of vultures,” Newt glanced at them unhappily. “What a great holiday.”

“Stubborn brat,” the grandfather grumbled and pointed at him while looking at his wife. “I told you he’s still the same cheeky kid and won’t go!”

“Now that’s surprising,” Newt buried his face back to Thomas’ shirt and Thomas wasn’t exactly sure how to react on this – if he even should have. “There is a reason why I decided to stay here without you, you know.”

“Newt,” Thomas nudged him gently, but the blond only shook his head and refused to let go. Thomas glanced back at the grandmother and she looked rather disappointed, which made him feel guilty, although he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he said no, it was Newt’s decision, and yet he couldn’t shake that feeling off, especially when she seemed genuinely upset. When she noticed he was looking at her, she sighed and made a vague gesture with her hand.

“It’s countryside,” she said softly. “Fresh air and really quiet place without people.”

“It’s like a zombie land,” Newt added bitterly. “You won’t even catch proper signal there.”

“Well, if it’s for recreation…” Thomas tried to soothe the situation, but Newt only pinched his side in reprimand, so he shut up and sent his grandmother an apologetic look. She silently nodded and stood up, apparently leaving, and her husband followed her example.

“We will stop by again tomorrow,” she said simply and when Newt only hummed, they left the room in silence.

Once the door behind them clicked closed, Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but Newt suddenly pushed and he found himself lying on his back with wide eyes, staring up at Newt’s blissfully happy face, and it took about everything he wanted to say away.

“I thought they’d never leave,” Newt said, leaning down to brush their lips together. “You have no idea how difficult it was not to touch you right the moment you got here.”

“Look at this stubborn kid talking all sexy,” Thomas teased him with a chuckle, but didn’t fight against the kiss Newt bestowed on him. That little devil nestled himself in between Thomas thighs and showed him French lessons like he was starving for it, and who was Thomas to struggle against it? His hands already roamed Newt’s back, finding the opening in the hospital garb immediately and reaching for the bare skin, just to make Newt moan and buck up. It shot through him like electricity and he gasped for air like he was drowning.

“You sure about the-mpfh.”

“No talking,” Newt told him sternly. “I’m starved here, don’t be so cruel.”

Thomas barked out a laugh, but Newt swallowed it up in another kiss with lots of tongue. Thomas couldn’t say he was complaining about it and proceeded to play along until the door opened and they scared the nurse for life.

***

“I swear I’m going to die of frustration over here,” Newt complained for about tenth time already and Thomas handed him a piece of apple he cut off. The blond took it, but instead of eating it he started gesticulate wildly again. “All the time somebody just _have to_ come here! I can’t even masturbate in peace!”

Thomas almost choked on the piece of apple he alone tried to eat and if they made the nurse speechless with their make out, he couldn’t even imagine if Newt had been caught up with a hand in pants. Or well, no pants, but the garb.

_Better not to think about it._

“You’re supposed to recover here,” he managed to get out once he got rid of the choking sound. “Not satisfy your libido.”

“That’s a part of recovering,” Newt sent him a serious look. “But if this is going to continue, I will die of a serious case of blue balls.”

“Oh boy.”

“Tommy,” Newt almost whined and Thomas had to hide his smirk because it was too strong. “Stop laughing. Give me at least one more kiss.”

“Take an apple instead,” Thomas sliced another part and handed it to him with a grin. “Gotta keep you healthy. Then you can get all the kisses you want.”

“I want them now.”

“Eat the apple.”

“Spoilsport,” the blond uttered, but ate both pieces he had anyway. It made Thomas think how thin he had been and couldn’t help but wonder if he actually ate everything they gave him here or not – because let’s face it with the hospital food, right?

“So how about the offer your oldies gave you?” he decided to breach the sensitive topic and Newt gave him an annoyed look.

“Just forget about it,” he told him grudgingly. “They just want to have me on a leash again.”

“They’re worried,” Thomas opposed. “That’s understandable.”

“Sure, worried,” Newt extended his hand and Thomas sliced another part of the fruit and gave it to him. “I decided to live here with Sonja on purpose though. They have the urge to control everything I do.”

“Yeah?” Thomas tilted his head to the side and Newt sighed.

“You want to go there, don’t you,” he concluded simply. “Because you feel guilty about me being mean to them.”

_Bullseye._

“I just thought it could be better for you for a while, the fresh air and everything,” Thomas shrugged, but didn’t deny it. He did feel guilty about it, especially after Newt’s grandmother’s disappointment, but he didn’t mean to push it.

“Ugh.”

“If you really don’t want to, then it’s a no,” Thomas added. “Just think about it. And I wouldn’t mind visiting countryside in England. I didn’t have my vacation during this year yet either.”

“Wouldn’t Bali be better?”

“Too mainstream,” Thomas waved his hand and Newt shook his head. “And I hate when it’s too hot.”

“So you’d rather spend it in the hell house of theirs with them breathing on your neck all the time,” Newt concluded. “I think we should break up.”

“I think you should eat a bit more and deal with it,” Thomas told him sweetly and when Newt only grumbled something, he leaned in and gently kissed him on his lips. “Right, Cuddles?”

“Asshat,” Newt kissed him back. “Your only luck is that I love you so much.”

Thomas quietly enjoyed his victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Oh yes, Cuddles, let's go to England :D


	29. Dinner at five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s huge,” he commented, feeling a little dumbfound.  
> “That’s what she said,” Newt snickered and pressed to Thomas’ side while slinging one of his arms around Thomas’ waist. “Chill. It just looks stupid. It’s almost normal inside.”  
> “It looks like I should go buy a tuxedo,” Thomas retorted and it made Newt laugh and walk forward, pulling at Thomas’ hand to follow him. “You know, I think I changed my mind, let’s go back home.”

If you think of a _castle_ , you wouldn’t be far from truth. It was basically the first thing that came to Thomas’ mind when he saw the monstrosity with probably more rooms than any hotel he had seen and insane size of its land around it that probably took forever to take care of.

It was like those stupid romantic movies about couples that lived in these fortresses, with servants and a private golf club, and Thomas felt lame when standing in front of it with his bag at his feet and clothes that probably were going to offend the sole pathway to the house, like he wasn’t worthy.

“Newt,” he let out and the blond boy next to him hummed. He looked thoroughly unimpressed, maybe even slightly annoyed. “Are your grandparents secretly part of the royal family or something?”

“With the sticks in their asses? Sometimes I think they are,” Newt uttered. He probably didn’t understand Thomas’ feeling of being overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity of this place and Thomas didn’t even know how he would explain. It was like visiting the Queen and it made him a little anxious, which was ridiculous, but real.

“It’s _huge_ ,” he commented, feeling a little dumbfound.

“That’s what she said,” Newt snickered and pressed to Thomas’ side while slinging one of his arms around Thomas’ waist. “Chill. It just looks stupid. It’s almost normal inside.”

“It looks like I should go buy a tuxedo,” Thomas retorted and it made Newt laugh and walk forward, pulling at Thomas’ hand to follow him. “You know, I think I changed my mind, let’s go back home.”

“Oh?” Newt stopped, his eyes searching. “For real? Because I’d totally go.”

“You’d totally go?” Thomas tilted his head to the side. “After 8 hours in the plane you’d run back for another 8 hours, just to get out of here?”

“You said you changed your mind,” the blond mumbled and it was a little funny. He really looked like wouldn’t mind to suffer through the tiresome flight again only so he could avoid his family. Thomas wondered why – his family was mostly out of touch lately with him, especially with living in another state, but when they met (usually over specific holiday like Christmas or when somebody had birthday and there had been a big celebration scheduled) it was fun and he enjoyed their presence. Newt, on the other hand, not as much with his oldies, apparently.

“Was more of a matter of speech,” he tried, but he couldn’t deny the place was giving him creeps. “Since we are already here…”

“Well,” Newt glanced back at the house and then focused at Thomas again. “We can stay for dinner. Maybe spend one night. Then leave again?”

“You really don’t want to stay here, do you,” Thomas closed the gap between them and Newt buried his face into Thomas’ jacket with a deep sigh.

“Brings back weird memories,” he mumbled.

“Like?”

“Like suffering through most of the illnesses here,” came a surprisingly reasonable argument. “My puberty which was rather awkward and they acted like police commando through it. My first heartbreak. And so on.”

“Oh?” Thomas perked up at the worst thing from all of this and knew it was nosy, but _first heartbreak_ sounded like something that could have made Newt definitely bitterer and he wanted to know more with morbid curiosity. “First heartbreak, here?”

“Mhm,” Newt leaned to him more and circled his arm around his waist. “It’s probably stupid.”

“What is?” Thomas asked gently.

“I feel like this place is cursed?” Newt offered in a small voice. “Like bad things happen here. Like it could harm us.”

“Then we won’t let it harm us,” Thomas gently ruffled his hair. He didn’t expect Newt being insecure about such thing – he thought he just disliked his grandparent’s constant surveillance, not the fact he dredged the possibility of them having a crisis here, because he had one before.

Newt huffed and didn’t let go.

“But it looks positively hunted,” Thomas tried to light up the mood a little. “Are there any ghosts?”

“My grandfather usually hunts the fridge in one in the morning.”

Thomas snorted and Newt finally let go, his face radiating some sort of reconciliation. Thomas considered it as a sign to continue towards the place while trying to look like visiting such residences was completely normal.

Well, for Newt it probably was. Thomas felt like he was going to need to call Brenda to play his maid, just to fit in.

***

“We were wondering if you’d arrive.”

“Sorry we are late,” Thomas spoke up, since Newt only let out an exasperated sigh and after initial greeting remained quiet. “The flight got delayed. Then we got delayed. Then had an existential crisis.”

“Sounds like a busy day,” Newt’s grandmother chuckled and pointed at the long hallway. “Let me take you to your room, you can leave your bags there.”

Thomas gently squeezed Newt’s hand and followed the elderly woman without another word. Newt kept his silence, but at least squeezed him back, so Thomas took it as a good sign.

The whole place had been giving this comfortable vibe, such as you get in cottages or places where the outside world was harsh and this had been your blissful hideout. Thomas didn’t know what exactly it made him feel that way – maybe the ubiquitous wood motive everywhere, or the slightly creaking stairs, or the pleasant smell of firewood and sweets in the air. But it was cosy, despite its overwhelming outside appearance, and he felt himself relaxing gradually.

They climbed the stairs to the second floor and the grandmother led them to the last room in the corridor. When she opened the door, Thomas let out a short breath and Newt near him whispered _nice_ before nuzzling Thomas’ neck like an affectionate cat. Thomas considered it as a proof of satisfaction, since the room hadn’t been exactly big, but it was dominated by an enormous king sized bed right in the middle of it and Thomas could easily tell what was on Newt’s mind without the boy even saying it.

“I hope it’s to your liking, Tommy,” the grandmother turned to Thomas with a genuine smile, but there had been flick of mischief in her eyes and it took Thomas a moment before he realized why. “Newt, your room is in the front, as usual.”

“What?” the blond stiffened and Thomas had to bite his tongue to keep himself from laughing. “No, I’m staying with him.”

“Not under my roof, young man,” the grandmother put on a serious face and Newt stared at her like she grew another head. Then glanced back at Thomas, grabbed his bag again and turned around.

“We are leaving,” he stated resolutely. “I don’t need another abstinence torture, thank you very much.”

“He means from table games, of course,” Thomas quickly added. “Like Poker… or something.”

“I’m sure,” she rolled her eyes, but then grabbed Newt by his shoulder and pulled him back. “I’m only joking, you stubborn pup. As if I would be able to keep you in your room at night.”

“You’d have to chain me to the bed,” Newt grumbled, but let himself to be calmed down and returned to the room where he put his bag at the legs of the bed. “This place haven’t changed a bit.”

“Why would it change?” she opposed simply. “We have no one to impress with new furniture every month.”

“It’s really cosy here,” Thomas added to the conversation and glanced around, probably saving the woman from another bitter remark from her grandson. The room was under the roof, so the walls were bevelled and it made it look even more homey than the rest of the house. It had one window right above the bed and one on the side and Thomas thought it must have been awesome at rainy days here.

Which was probably often, since… England.

“Thank you,” she nodded to him, pleased. “I suppose you want some rest. Come down when ready. Dinner is at five if you’re going to be hungry.”

“What, no room service?” Newt faked a disbelieving stare and she only waved her hand and closed the door behind them.

“You and your potty mouth,” Thomas let out a sigh and put his bag out of the way, slowly circled the bed and sat on the right side.

“I’m just honest,” Newt opposed and climbed on the bed as well, immediately leaning over Thomas’ back, kissing him on the cheek. “Nothing bad about it.”

“My family would have a heart attack,” Thomas smirked and turned to the side so Newt could kiss him on the lips. It was probably enough with them on the airport, since people had been staring at them for most of the time in the departure hall anyway. When they weren’t holding hands, Newt was at least nuzzling to him obnoxiously and laughing about it like a maniac and Thomas on other hand kept on biting him when he got too close.

He was actually surprised they were allowed to board the plane.

“I’m sure your family would love me to bits and pieces,” Newt retorted cheekily, and it was funny because they probably would from the first moment they’d seen him.

Maybe except Aunt Grace. She was pretty old fashioned.

Newt was cheeky and sometimes deadly honest, and really, really dirty minded, but he was lovable and when he had been in good mood, nothing could defend itself from him in the sunshine demeanour. Thomas loved it immensely, but he adored all kind of faces Newt pulled, and he had lots of them. Even those that made the blond pissy and snarly, because at that point it was even more fun to tease him (especially when he got all dominant and literally pushed Thomas on his back so he could show him _how_ pissy he was. It usually was worth the few swear words and several bite marks Brenda grinned at later).

“Yeah,” Thomas leaned back and Newt let him drop onto the mattress, looking up at the blond from there. “They would.”

“Hey,” Newt grinned at him. “Spiderman kiss?”

“Sorry for not hanging on the wall for it,” Thomas smiled at him lazily, his body pleasantly tired and ready to take a nap, or a nice cuddle.

“No need,” the blond assured him and climbed directly above of him. “You haven’t seen the movie?”

“Depends which one,” Thomas shrugged and Newt dipped his head lower, brushing their lips together upside down. “Maguire?”

“Yup,” a small peck followed. “I found the one with Garfield weird. He was cute. But the movies meh.”

“Mhm,” Thomas raised his hands and caught Newt behind his head, pulling him lower. “Nerd.”

“Shhh,” a lick and a small nibble made Thomas moan slightly and it only fuelled Newt’s efforts more because from teasing attempts for a kiss he proceeded to serious tonsil hockey and Thomas immediately felt his body waking up.

It had been rather hectic past few days since Newt got released from the hospital after three weeks long stay. Of course he got several warnings and scheduled check-ups, but his blood tests came out good, the infection was gone and no fever bothered him either. Thomas even manned up and bought Janson a bottle of red wine (he was so red wine type, he couldn’t resist) and gave it to him with _thank you_ , while almost adding _even though you’re such a dickhead._

The point was – once Newt got home, or better, once Thomas drove him home and they got up to Newt’s flat, the blond fulfilled his promise and Thomas found himself on his back on the couch getting stripped by a very impatient seventeen years old, and even though he laughed at first, the humour didn’t last very long.

Since then there was no stopping Newt at these things, it was like he adopted a life motto _every day can be your last, so make the most of it_ and Thomas had been _the most_ apparently. So there was sex. A lot of sex. Every day.

“How about a shower first?” he asked in between the kisses and Newt only changed his location and started mouthing his neck hotly. “We spent 8 hours in the plane…”

“You know how cavemen did it?” came a muffled reply and Thomas rolled his eyes, just before a bite to his collarbone landed. “They didn’t wash for it either. Makes you more appealing.”

“Smelly?” Thomas groaned and Newt pulled at his shirt until it was over Thomas’ head and then disappeared somewhere on the floor.

“Enticing?” Newt offered, licking a long stripe from Thomas’ belly to the belt of his pants. “You smell good.”

Once a tug on his belt appeared, Thomas batted the blond’s hands away and turned around, pinning the boy on his back in return, earning a delighted giggle.

Yes, a giggle. Because Newt was a little devil and he giggled when things went according to his plan.

“How big is the possibility of your oldies coming here in the near future?” Thomas asked, noting how his voice got rough. There was no stopping him, even if Newt would answer with something that should have put breaks on them. His hands were already dragging the jacket off Newt’s shoulders and then the shirt over his head, and Newt was grinning at him because he was aware how far gone Thomas had been.

“Tommy, I grew up with them,” he told him happily. “Don’t think they don’t know what is going on here right now.”

“What, you brought guys over and sexed them up every time?” Thomas pulled the belt from the loops on Newt’s jeans and then started popping buttons one by one. “I thought I was special.”

“You’re pretty much special,” Newt easily lifted his hips, helping Thomas to take the jeans off, then pulled him down for a long kiss. His lips were soft and warm and Thomas couldn’t get enough of kissing him, no matter where they were or with who. It was addicting like the sweetest drug. “Special and _mine_.”

“Mhm,” Thomas hummed in agreement. It was possessive – Newt had always been, Thomas knew – and maybe even a little childish, but it was doing wonders to Thomas’ state of mind, and his libido as a whole. “You say the sweetest things.”

“You deserve the sweetest things,” Newt bit his chin playfully. “My sexy guardian angel.”

“Oho, are you stepping up your flattering game?” Thomas grinned at him and Newt circled his hips with his legs and dragged him flat against him, earning and _oof_ and a very unmanly noise that made him laugh. “Sneaky little-,”

“Succubus,” the blond finished happily. “Yeah?”

“Yessss,” Thomas’ hips bucked up almost involuntarily and Newt moaned and threw his head back, baring his throat for a precise marking.

They were so not making it for dinner at five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Who needs dinner, amirite?


	30. Night talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I guess I simply fell for him,” he tried not to use any cheesy words or gestures. He didn’t think the grandfather was the right person to fall for it anyway. “He has great sense of humour. He’s adorable. He… made the first move?”  
> “I thought so!” the grandfather suddenly pointed at him as if he just caught him red handed. “So it was him!”  
> “Uh… I guess he started it?” Thomas shrugged, hoping it didn’t look as tense as he felt. “Is it an issue for you?”

It had been strange, the eerie silence and emptiness through the whole, dark house. Thomas did a double take on his sudden thirst and almost returned to the safe, warm cocoon of blankets and Newt’s body instead of venturing further into the darkness, but his throat was parched and woke him up in the first place.

Every step he did creak slightly and he stopped several times to listen if he didn’t wake somebody by it. Thank to that he managed to get to the kitchen in 15 minutes and hoped Newt didn’t register his departure, since if the blond actually waited for him to come back, he would never hear the end of his slowpoke pace.

It took him another minute or two when he searched for the light switch and when he was ready to give up and try to go blind, a deep voice from somewhere inside of the kitchen said:

“It’s on the left side.”

Thomas yelped, probably hit something that almost dropped on the floor, and then _finally_ managed to find the incriminated object and lit the room up, realizing that right at the middle isle Newt’s grandfather had been sitting with a huge portion of ice cream, staring back at him. He was in a flannel pyjamas (and marine motive, which was hilarious), but for some reason even those clothes didn’t make him look any less intimidating.

“Uh,” Thomas let out lamely. “Hi.”

_Hunting the fridge contents, seems Newt wasn’t joking after all._

They didn’t make it to dinner today, but emerged just an hour or two past it, and where Thomas held the face of politeness and an actual regret, Newt made it pretty much apparent he just had a nice, _welcome home or whatever_ sex and his face was this sated happy mess and he kept it until they went back to sleep.

The point was – Thomas met the grandfather today already, and he also earned a _you’re late_ sort of speech of how not to get swayed by Newt’s rudeness so early in the relationship. Newt only waved him off, dragged Thomas to the living room and used him as a cushion while watching the TV (the living room was absolutely stunning though – with huge fireplace Thomas would love to spend time in front of more often, a sitting area that begged to use it and despite it being probably slightly oversized, Thomas found it comfortable to the point of struggling to leave). Since then their path technically didn’t cross again and Thomas felt like it was a bad start, somehow.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to meet the man at 3 AM in the kitchen.

“Got munchies?” the grandfather asked, since he apparently got, judging from the ridiculous amount of ice cream he had in his bowl (with colourful sprinkles on top, _jesus_ ), and Thomas cleared his throat awkwardly. He was barefooted, in grey shirt and baggy pants Newt called _a tent_ and probably looked like he went to steal something in the middle of the night and not just wanted to drink something.

“Thirsty,” he responded meekly and the grandfather pointed at the fridge.

“Help yourself,” he shrugged and it was easier than Thomas expected. Every time he stayed alone with the man there was this anxious expectation of _the talk_ and while there also had been _the look_ , Thomas kind of wanted to vaporize.

He quietly padded towards the fridge and opened it, feeling even more embarrassed for raiding it than he had been when Newt decided to French him in the middle of watching TV and his grandmother cleared her throat behind them in a warning (Thomas was redder than a tomato for the rest of the movie).

He pulled out orange juice, not really sure what the rest of contents of other bottles were (some colours were kind of toxic), and poured himself a glass he found on the first try. He could almost feel physically how the grandfather had been watching him and his hands shook like they wanted to make him spill the drink for fun (wouldn’t be fun, but mortification).

“I had been wondering for some time now,” the man suddenly spoke and Thomas was glad he didn’t start to drink yet, or he would probably spit it out. “How a proper youngster like you got involved with a kid like Newton?”

“I’m sorry?” Thomas grew bold enough to glance at his interrogator, and was glad no glare greeted him back. At least not yet.

“I gathered you’re employed, living in your own place, judging from your behaviour also pretty plain, which translates to normal, I guess,” the grandfather gulped down a spoonful of ice cream before continuing and Thomas dredged the rest already. Was he plain? Was it bad? “But looking at our kid, he is anything but. He has bad mouth, he’s stubborn and refuses to listen to anybody. Not to mention his moods and really bad attitude at times. We lived through this, we know how bad it can get.”

“He’s alright when he doesn’t feel sick,” Thomas tried weakly. Of course Newt had been basically all of those things, but it wasn’t _that_ bad anymore, and most of it was also still a reason why Thomas loved him so much. Hearing his family saying this like he was the worst person to deal with ever was kind of a let down from them.

“To you, maybe,” the man shrugged and stirred the melting ice cream slowly. “But the point stands – _why_ did you even think this was a good idea?”

“Dating him?” Thomas tilted his head to the side, his insides churning. There was something big posing as a punchline, he knew it.

“Yes,” the grandfather nodded. “Dating a seventeen years old kid.”

Was he trying to make Thomas feel bad for it? He wasn’t sure. If Newt had been fifteen, Thomas would understand the nagging speech, but seventeen was almost an adult (not to mention his birthday was this year, so technically he was almost eighteen anyway).

“I guess I simply fell for him,” he tried not to use any cheesy words or gestures. He didn’t think the grandfather was the right person to fall for it anyway. “He has great sense of humour. He’s adorable. He… made the first move?”

“I thought so!” the grandfather suddenly pointed at him as if he just caught him red handed. “So it was him!”

“Uh… I guess he started it?” Thomas shrugged, hoping it didn’t look as tense as he felt. “Is it an issue for you?”

“I was just wondering,” the man calmed down again as if the initial outburst didn’t even happen and Thomas found it weird. It was like he was searching for a fault in the progress of the relationship and Thomas wasn’t entirely sure if there had been any – and if then it didn’t matter anymore. “He got burned doing this once. Thought he wouldn’t want to go through it again, being the initiator and everything. Tell me one thing – are you gay?”

Thomas blinked, replayed the question in his head and blinked some more.

“It’s a simple question, boy,” the older man tapped his fingers against the table. “Not a rocket science.”

“Uh,” Thomas voiced out awkwardly. “I… don’t think so? I mean, I guess I’m bi?”

A question about his sexuality so early in the morning, what a goddamn killer. He never even thought about it. He had no damn issues about his partner whatsoever – dating Newt felt natural. Yes, at first it was rather strange because he wasn’t sure how to act, but the fact Newt was a boy never posed an issue.

When you love, you love unconditionally, right?

He liked Newt. He found him adorable. He found him sexy. Attractive. Kissable.

He liked girls too, but there just wasn’t preference anymore. He didn’t meet a guy he would feel the same way about as he did about Newt, so whatever, right? It was _now_ that mattered.

“You dated girls too?” another awkwardly personal question and Thomas frowned a little. Was this really necessary?

“Is this really necessary?” he didn’t mean to sound attacking, but it probably ended up that way, especially when he crossed his arms on his chest.

“It is,” his companion shrugged as if it was no big deal to ask about such thing. “Because I’d hate to see the history repeat itself.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow, but remained quiet. History repeating itself? With Newt or…?

“Newt used to date this one guy,” the grandfather pushed away the bowl with melted ice cream and stood up, immediately filling the room like a deadly shadow. He was tall and wide and little more intimidating than before. “Guess it was a good kid, if he didn’t leave Newt two months after.”

Two months? That was about the same amount of time Thomas started dating Newt, officially. A two months milestone, suddenly it had somehow bitter taste, hearing this. Newt’s words about _cursed place_ and _like it could harm us_ suddenly rang through his mind with eerie clarity.

“Not sure about his sexuality,” the grandfather continued. “Never dated guy before. Wanted to try. And then chickened out.”

_The first heartbreak? The grandmother once mentioned “Alby” – was it him?_

“So let me ask you,” the grandfather got closer to Thomas and there was _the look_ Thomas had been dredging the whole time. “Is this but a fling to you? Are you _trying_ new things?”

“I’m in love with him,” Thomas shot out with wildly beating heart. ”For fuck’s sake.”

“And?”

“Yes, I’ve dated girls,” he grumbled. “I had a three years long relationship with a girl before I took the job with Newt. We broke up shortly after I became his caretaker. I spent about a month bummed out about it. Being with him helped.”

“Not sure I like the sound of it,” the grandfather commented sternly. “Is he a substitute?”

“Are you deliberately trying to make me snap?” Thomas got fed up. “Because I’m close to it.”

The grandfather opened his mouth to answer, but before he got the chance, Newt appeared in the doors like a ghost and all the chatter stopped.

“What is the bloody hell going on here?” the blond’s voice flooded the room with dangerous ring to it. He looked dishevelled and sleepy in his oversized shirt, and also angry and rather dissatisfied. Thomas didn’t dare to move a muscle and it seemed like the older man was of the same state. “Are you bothering him?”

The words were aimed at the grandfather and they stung a little. There was an evident unhappiness in Newt’s voice and the older man had to hear it as well, since he let out a sigh and stepped away from Thomas. Thomas didn’t even realize how close the man had been until now and how intimidating the scene must have looked to Newt from the door.

“I knew coming back here was a bloody mistake,” the blond grumbled and stomped towards Thomas, immediately seizing him by his hand. He radiated anger now and his grip was strong and unrelenting, and he kept his eyes on his grandfather like a laser the whole time. “You just have to ruin everything, don’t you?”

“I merely asked few questions,” the grandfather shrugged and returned to his bowl with melted ice cream, spared one look at it and then poured it to the sink. “Good night.”

The grip on Thomas’ hand was almost painfully strong until the man disappeared in the hallway and Thomas knew he had about thousands of questions to ask.

***

“Just forget the whole conversation,” Newt was fuming all the way back to the room, and then even in the bed while trying to find a position worth to fall asleep in. “He’s such a jerk, he does this all the bloody time! He told you something weird, didn’t he.”

“I dunno,” Thomas tentatively reached for the blond’s hand and when Newt didn’t make any move against it, he intertwined their fingers together and pulled him flush against his body. Newt let out a small sigh, but relaxed slowly until he curled in Thomas’ arms quietly.

“Just…” Thomas hesitated, but when Newt squeezed his hand stronger as if saying _go on_ , he shortly nodded. “Who’s Alby?”

“Oh god,” Newt groaned. Bad topic, it seemed. “He talked to you about Alby? For real? What a bloody jerkface.”

“Well…” Thomas nudged the back of Newt’s neck with his nose. There was a saying the skeletons should have been left resting in their wardrobes, but there was this nagging feeling in the back of his head anyway. “If he was your ex, then it just got me a little curious.”

“About my ex,” Newt huffed and Thomas stubbornly hummed in agreement. “Are you a masochist?”

“I heard some ugly things about him, I’m just concerned,” Thomas opposed gently. “Since it feels like you’re connecting it in your head with us anyway.”

“Am not.”

“That two months thing?”

“Oh,” Newt stilled. “ _That_.”

“So?”

“Look, my dating history is pretty short, so sorry to be insecure about this shite,” Newt uttered and buried his face into the pillow, muffling most of the incoming words. “He dumped me two months after we started dating and he was the first. Happy now?”

“I dunno,” Thomas shrugged and his free hand pulled at Newt’s hair. “Are you comparing it to us now?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Bloody hell,” Newt let off Thomas’ hand and abruptly sat up, glaring at him unhappily. “I told you this place is a fucking whack! First day and we are arguing, for fuck’s sake, unbelievable!”

“We are not arguing,” Thomas countered calmly. “And I’m not Alby to leave you because of whatever reasons he had after two months.”

“Whatever reasons,” Newt hissed and rubbed his eyes. “ _Girls are better after all, sorry_ , was his reason. Three days after I’ve seen him with one of my female classmates – his ex by the way - holding hands and Frenching at the bus stop.”

 _That explained a lot_ , Thomas thought.

“We’re together for two months,” Thomas pointed out quietly. “Are you expecting me to tell you the same thing and go feast on Teresa?”

“That’s her name?” Newt’s voice skipped a little, probably how he tried to play it tough and failed. “Sounds lame.”

“It’s a pretty name,” Thomas opposed.

“Of course it’s a pretty name,” the blond rolled his eyes. “She’s pretty too, eh?”

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed. “Pretty. Also over, for me. Dating my best friend. Keeping a friendly touch, which I’m grateful for.”

“Uh huh.”

Thomas could exactly pinpoint the moment Newt became closed off like a fortress. If Thomas tried to reach for him now, he would probably get bitten.

“I got asked if you’re just a fling to me,” he said instead and sat up as well, keeping the distance. “That if I’m just trying something different and going to get rid of you once I had my fun.”

No answer, but Newt flinched. He must have thought of it, and that made Thomas sad.

“Your grandpa knows pretty well your worries, you know,” Thomas offered gently. “And as much as annoying it was, and also kind of rude, I got his point. He cares. He tries to protect you.”

Silence.

“The point is – he doesn’t really have a reason to,” Thomas continued quietly and kept his hands to himself. He had no inclination to argue with the boy, all he wanted to do was cuddle and sleep. Then maybe catch the next plane and return home.

He noticed how Newt looked at him – curious, probably, and hopeful. It made Thomas want to hug him like crazy.

“Because even though you’re sometimes pretty much insufferable and dirty minded, I love you,” he continued strongly, earning a huff. “And you’re not a fling. Not a test. I may have dated girls before and have a friendly relationship with my ex, but you’re the number one and I’m getting fucking tired and the words just don’t make any sense anymore, let’s sleep and leave tomorrow.”

“Leave tomorrow?” the blond finally talked, his eyes wide.

“I got fed up,” Thomas yawned and offered his hand. Newt stared at it for a moment, but then took it and let himself to be pulled close again, fitting like the right piece of puzzle. “I don’t think that’s what vacations are for.”

“No, not really,” Newt agreed and when Thomas switched the lamp off and lay down, he followed him without a fight, then curled up to him, kissing his chin as if in reconciliation gesture.

“It wasn’t like I doubted you,” he whispered to the darkness after a minute and his hands hugged Thomas’ torso. “At all. He just made me mad and then the Alby thing made me even madder, and suddenly you were naming all the things I was scared of and I panicked.”

“Are you scared I’d leave you for Teresa?” Thomas asked softly and Newt lodged his head right under his chin, pushing into his chest.

“No,” he heard him saying. “But… it crossed my mind.”

“You do realize she dumped me, not the other way around,” Thomas reminded him simply and Newt hummed. “Because I worked too much. I told her I can’t change. It was over.”

“It’s a lame reason,” Newt added bitterly.

“Well,” Thomas breathed in Newt’s scent and pulled him even closer. ”Funny thing is since we are together, I constantly tried to find a way how to ditch work in the hospital so I could stay with you. And when I didn’t, I regretted it.”

“Newt 1, Teresa 0.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Thomas chuckled and Newt did the same until he pulled away again so he could lever himself with Thomas. Then he leaned in and pecked him on the lips.

“You really do love me,” he commented and it sounded a little awed. Thomas smirked and kissed him back.

“I adore you, my sweet little succubus,” he whispered to Newt’s lips. “Should I show you how?”

“Mmm, yes,” Newt traded his fingers through Thomas hair and flung one leg over his hips. “Show me thoroughly.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The delighted squeal was probably the nicest sound Thomas had heard these past few hours. He decided to beat it with much better ones shortly.

“Hey Tommy,” Newt shed his shirt and let Thomas to manhandle him without struggle. He was pliant and warm and Thomas _wanted_ so much he just couldn’t understand why Newt would even _think_ he would give him up, _ever_.

“Hmm?” he started kissing a wet trail down Newt’s chest, earning a breathy moan he loved to bits. It was all _his_. “Let’s give it another shot.”

“Another shot?” he raised his head in a question and Newt grinned so brightly Thomas could easily tell even in the darkness. It was, after all, the sunshine he fell in love with.

“Let’s stay here longer. Show them they were wrong.”

Thomas couldn’t agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Phew, finally. So this concludes it all ^^ I may add some one shots when something comes on my mind, but all in all this is it :) If you want any questions answered or something concrete written, feel free to hit me up ^^
> 
> Thank you all for all your support and fantastic comments, it had been a pleasure writing for you <3


	31. Public - One Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:   
> Hey! I’ve read your “Weak Blood” (for the 100th time already) and I’m so in love with it!
> 
> I was wondering if you would consider writing an one-shot for this AU (like… take a prompt from me about it? Haha’). It’s just that I watched TDC and I'm broken hearted, so I thought I should just try my luck and ask you haha’ (sorry if I'm bothering you. I just really love that AU).
> 
> I don’t know, it could be anything, really. I’m bad at this, but I would love to see them in “reversed roles”, you know? Like Thomas is the one who gets jealous of Newt this time (and initiates a lot of public kissing, maybe?). Or like Thomas is the one telling Newt that he makes him crazy and out of control (because Thomas is thinking about that when Newt is kissing him on chapter 19, but Newt is the one who says it). Or it could be something about Newt’s accent too haha’.
> 
> I don’t really know. I love everything you write.
> 
> (Sorry about my english: it’s not my first language).

**Public**

The thing about Newt was that he rarely listened to anybody. He had his own stubborn head and attitude and if he didn’t like somebody, he didn’t have troubles to show them thoroughly and not just with words. Thomas knew that about him and after time they spent together had his own few tricks on how to get him where he wanted him, or at least cool down that hot head of his. Frankly to say, Thomas was kind of proud of his ability to get Newt under control when things got bad in public, and also proud of his own skills to stay calm during about everything the blond threw at him.

Public groping? No problem, just snatch the hand away from the groped parts, kiss the knuckles, see Newt melt. Newt demanding something a bit too loud when surrounded by people? No biggie, just ruffle his hair and caress his cheek, see Newt pipe down blissfully. A possible public argument Newt could get into with somebody? Thomas had the trick for that too. So really, just taming the blond enough for being able to control those things gave Thomas an immense power – not that it happened often. Newt wasn’t that big on making scenes or trying to embarrass anybody (less alone Thomas himself), but he has his moments and Thomas learned how to counter them because he was able to stay completely calm.

Or so he thought.

It was funny, really. Or maybe just really, really pathetic of him more likely, but there he was, possibly crashing a mug in his hand for how tightly he was gripping it (and quite frankly it wasn’t the content’s fault, the coffee was great as always and Minho’s worried face aimed at it wasn’t warranted). The coffee shop had been rather packed but Newt insisted he hadn’t seen Minho for pretty long and Thomas was of the same mind, so they got a nice cup of coffee from their favourite barista, sat down for a chat and then bam! Long-time no see friend popping out of thin air, dragging Newt away without a word to others (namely him and Minho exchanging glances) and holding him hostage for half an hour already.

Half an hour. On a hand on Newt’s thigh. For half-goddamn-hour.

“Dude,” Minho piped near him. “You look like a mass murderer. Want to raise a restraining order?”

“You have a gun?” Thomas grumbled instead and more felt than saw Minho lean over the counter next to him.

“Duck hunting season is over tho.”

“I think more of a putting retarded animal down.”

Minho patted him on the shoulder and Thomas heard him snort. Well, it was probably rather laughable. And fine, he must have been looking pitiful too for Minho to point it out so bluntly, but hey, there was this guy almost climbing over his boyfriend and the clock was ticking. How the hell Newt thought it was okay?

Or maybe it was. He was a friend after all.

No, it goddamn wasn’t, Thomas didn’t come here to look at somebody slobbering over his lover, no matter who it had been, how long they haven’t seen each other or how fun it was in high school with the pie accident.

Thomas didn’t want to know about the pie accident.

“Just go tell him you gotta go,” Minho appeared next to him once more, wiping his hands into a cloth. “Or you know, that you have plans _and_ gotta go.”

And Newt would say – okay Tommy, I will catch you later at home, bye! _Nope._

“No,” Thomas mumbled instead unhappily. Naturally, he didn’t know if Newt would even say that, but he just looked like he enjoyed himself.

Did the hand on his thigh travelled a bit higher? Thomas had a distinct impression he heard the mug in his hand crack a little.

“Well, okay then,” the black-haired barista grinned. “Maybe if you keep it long enough, you will make a hole in the guy’s head.”

“Now I kinda wish being a Jedi was possible,” Thomas admitted childishly. He would Force the unwanted company out of the shop and into a sewer. “I would-huh.”

“Huh?” Minho raised an eyebrow, and Thomas had enough sense to put the mug away before it would fly over the coffee shop and clocked the nuisance off the stool for actually leaning forward into Newt’s personal space and staying there like he was wondering if the air Newt breathed wasn’t better than his own.

“Okay, that’s it,” Thomas stood up, his heart pounding strongly in his chest it almost hurt. He saw red on the edges like a tainted bull and Minho thankfully had enough self-preservation to not stand in his way. He was across the shop in about fraction of a second, towering menacingly over the duo that turned their confused gazes towards him.

“You mind?” he gritted out and the Long-time-no-see friend finally backed away from the blond enough for the conversation to appear casual again.

“Sorry?” he had the guts to look offended and Thomas decided to play a petty, possessive lover instead of simply putting a fist in his face, because let’s be honest – bloody noses were hard to explain afterwards, no matter how satisfying it was to see them.

“We’re leaving,” he said icily, his eyes glued to the Mr. Annoyance. “Have a great day.”

“But-?”

“Sorry!” Thomas heard Newt pipe and there was no resistance, no arguments – the blond hopped off the stool, intertwined his fingers with Thomas’ and let himself to be led outside of the shop while waving at Minho. Thomas waved to nobody because it would probably involve raised middle fingers on both hands and would mean to let go of Newt.

The cold air hit him like a slap but Newt’s hand was warm in his and it was probably the main thing that made him continue away from the incriminated place, far from the Long-time-no-see-friend and half-drunk coffee. Newt didn’t say a word the whole time, but his grip was firm and it gave Thomas weird kind of satisfaction over it.

He stopped one street away and spun his blond boyfriend around until he landed on Thomas’ chest with soft _oof_. His heart was still beating wildly in his ears like he did something bad, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not even with people passing them with raised eyebrows. Before Newt could even open his mouth and probably ask about the situation, Thomas dived in and captured it in a lewd kiss, swallowing any words that could have come out.

It didn’t take even a second before Newt was fully participating, nipping at Thomas’ lips in retribution and gripping his shirt in his hands to pull them flat against each other. And quite frankly it was probably a primal instinct that made Thomas give in so badly in a public place, because he had no shame from putting his knee between Newt’s legs and pushing forward, drawing lustful moan from the blond.

“Bloody hell, Tommy,” the blond drawled when they parted for air, wedged in each other like pieces of puzzle. The wind was sweeping around them in chilly circles and the glances their actions were drawing towards them weren’t as much of a cold shower as they should have been.

“Sorry,” Thomas managed, holding himself back from rubbing against Newt like a horny teenager by the power of his sheer will. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Mm, likewise,” Newt chuckled into his ear, his breath hot against the naked skin. “But wouldn’t it be better with, you know, less horrified oldies staring at us?”

“Weren’t you saying you’d like to try something new?” Thomas countered with a snort and it made Newt groan a little.

“Yeah, like, in the bed.” There was a scratch of nails on the back of Thomas’ neck and it made him shiver involuntary. “Just the two of us.”

Thomas agreed, he really did. Hell, he was never big on making out in public, but even so, he still refused to let Newt go and somehow his mouth found the pulsing point on Newt’s neck instead, sucking on it with a wild intent to leave a viciously red mark that would give the right message to any other possible friend popping out of nowhere.

“Hah,” Newt let out, his body nice and warm and pliant under Thomas’ hands. “You’re going to get us a-arrested.”

“Blasphemy.”

“There’s an officer staring at us,” the blond added with a soft laugh and, well, there were things that maybe kinda worked better than the others.

***

“I can’t believe you could get so jealous.”

Thomas buried his head in the pillow and whined. He was glad they made it out of the officer’s sight in time, because the carnal lust the damned jealousy woke up in him was savage. He almost made out with Newt in a back alley on the way to their flat, then in the hallway before they even get to the stairs and then right after they stepped into the flat. He was pretty sure they left the clothes haphazardly scattered all over the floor leading towards the bedroom as well, and he had a distinct impression he repeated Newt’s name so many times it must have been annoying for the blond. Yet Newt happily participated and let Thomas do whatever he liked, and it was probably worrisome suddenly he was the one so unable to put stop to his own desires, because as much as he didn’t care as he should have at that time, he definitely did now. And the slip of control was rather scary, for his normally pretty high control standards.

“I can’t believe that either,” he mumbled into the pillow. “I’m sorry.”

“Of course you are,” Newt piped and next thing Thomas felt were fingers tracing his spine, making him shiver again. There were some sensitive places where Newt played a hickey game and some, where Thomas just really, really liked it. “But it was kinda nice, you know.”

“I feel like a jerkface,” Thomas responded unhappily. “It was your friend.”

“Nah, just a guy from school,” Newt’s fingers continued down the spine, then up again. The touches were gentle, soothing, but they still had the power to feel Thomas up and he didn’t know if he should have been ashamed for it or if it simply meant the control was not back yet and Newt was really quickly approaching the second round.

“I don’t even remember his name,” he heard the blond above him. “I wasn’t in school that much. He was just a familiar face.”

“Well, he looked like wanted to have more familiar things with you,” Thomas grumbled into his pillow. The hand on Newt’s thigh was still bugging him, maybe mainly because Newt let him do it so casually.

“Well, can you blame him?” Newt cackled and before Thomas could turn around and tackle him, he dropped on Thomas’ back to stop him from any movement, hugging Thomas’ chest from behind.

“I just think he got too handsy,” Thomas gave up and Newt comfortably snuggled to his frame. His skin was warm and definitely started to wake up other parts of Thomas’ body.

“I think so as well,” the blond responded lightly. “And I was waiting.”

“For?”

“You.”

“For me to lose it?” Thomas let out a long sigh and Newt dropped several small kisses on his shoulder, probably in apology.

“Kind of,” he admitted sheepishly. “You’re always so in control, I just wanted you to slip a little.”

Thomas blinked and then turned his head as much as his current position allowed, catching glimpse of Newt’s smiling face above his shoulder.

“You wanted me to show I’m jealous?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and Newt moved a little to the side so Thomas didn’t have to crane is neck so much.

“Yeah,” the blond nodded.

“But isn’t that annoying?” Thomas asked dubiously and it made Newt chuckle. He felt it with his whole body thanks to their closeness and kind of wondered if he would be able to flip his lover around with ease or not. Newt as if he felt the intent gripped Thomas’ torso stronger and intertwined their legs.

“Nah, when it’s not constant,” he said after, beaming at Thomas victoriously. He probably knew what Thomas had in mind and was smug he prevented it. “I mean yeah, having overly jealous lover is probably a whack, but when it’s, you know, just right…”

“How can that be just right?” Thomas hummed under the pleasant weight and Newt landed another few pampering kisses on his other shoulder.

“Today was just right,” he whispered to Thomas’ naked skin. “You were so perfect, sweeping me off my feet like that. So hot.”

Thomas could imagine the horrifying scene of him pulling Newt out of the shop like a Neanderthal and it definitely didn’t look hot to him. He wondered if Minho took a photo, or god forbids a video of them, because if he did, he was never going to live it down.

“No, seriously,” the blond added and wiggled on top of Thomas playfully. “I was half hard the moment you stopped at us with that murderous expression.”

“You have the weirdest kinks,” Thomas grumbled and when Newt purred into his ear with his accented _you have no idea_ , he lost it, flipped them both over and pinned his misbehaving lover under him.

“Woo, round two!” Newt cheered, circled his hips with his legs and Thomas seriously gave up. He had the sweetest, sexiest and probably even horniest lover out of them all, and that little of control slip was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’m super happy you liked the story and I finally kicked my butt to write at least little something for you, to make you feel better (I hope!) after watching TDC ^^ I hope it’s at least a lil what you wanted :) Have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> It was a long way for me to get into another TMR series, but I don't think these are going to be long anyway :) I considered putting it into a prompts folder, but for the clarity I thought it's better as a stand-alone. 
> 
> (PS I have no idea what to think about The Scorch Trials, but at least he called him Tommy twice x)


End file.
